


Misguided Ghosts

by petrichorishly



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, F/M, Fluff, Haunting, Light Angst, Season/Series 01, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, accidental roomies, ghost!Lucifer, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichorishly/pseuds/petrichorishly
Summary: Chloe isn’t expecting the world when she moves into Dire Oaks after losing her apartment, her marriage and the respect of her coworkers.But nothing could have prepared her for the 30-year-old cold case literally haunting her new home.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 644
Kudos: 819





	1. Moving In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PandaInTheStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaInTheStars/gifts).



> Hello and welcome to my NaNo fic from last year!  
> Many thanks to [venividivictorious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venividivictorious) for helping me with this on the final stretch. Thanks to them this is finally ready to be published.  
> Chapter length varies a bit, sorry about that 😅  
> This story is complete and I will try to keep an update schedule of twice a week, for now that’s on Wednesdays and Sundays.

[](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7fa55e01f78e8fdaf59605ff1d76f66e/577d3896652f8b4e-4c/s1280x1920/63d7e959555f1b4252bc472b8ebd0063a3adca6f.jpg)

The house looked as if someone had picked it straight out of a horror movie, Chloe thought. The rusty gate, the lopsided wooden steps that led up to the porch that surrounded the house, the lattice blinds, all of them shut tight. The grass in the yard was overgrown. Leaves from the tall trees on both sides of the lot covered the narrow path from the gate to the house. In the rapidly approaching dusk the Victorian style building looked more like a small castle, hidden away at the end of the lane.

It was called _Dire Oaks_. It suited the house at least.

All in all, it wasn’t exactly inviting. But, Chloe reminded herself, this was just a temporary solution and she would find a new apartment soon. Her mother had pulled some strings, as she’d put it, and had arranged for Chloe to stay here while she was in between apartments. Well, so far Chloe had had no luck finding a new place anywhere even near Trixie’s school district but she wasn’t giving up just yet. For now, Trixie was staying with Dan and Chloe would just have to get up a few hours earlier to make the drive into the city every morning to get to work.

How her mother had arranged this place was beyond her. Apparently, no one wanted to buy this house, so it stood empty these past few years. But Penelope Decker had worked her magic and had convinced whoever owned this place now to let Chloe stay here for free. At least for a little while.

The gate creaked horribly when she pushed it open, heaving her suitcase past it. Gravel crunched underneath her feet as she approached the house, the usual sound of city traffic entirely absent out here. The next neighbor was half a mile down the road. Private, but lonely.

The wind had blown some leaves onto the wooden porch and against the front door. It looked like no one had set foot into the house in years. Only the hand-painted sign next to the door that read _Welcome_ in faint white letters had a certain personal touch. The porch was sheltered by a slanted roof, wooden pillars covered in weather-worn white paint flanking the stairs on either side. Chloe climbed the few steps that creaked under her weight and with a sigh she dropped her suitcase. To the left stood a rickety Hollywood swing that Chloe decidedly didn’t trust to hold her weight. It moved slightly in the breeze, back and forth, back and forth. She imagined the previous owners, a couple maybe, sitting out here on the porch, watching the sun set behind the trees. The thought made her smile. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

She rummaged through her pockets for the key. It turned easily in the lock and Chloe pushed the door inward. A dark hall welcomed her.

“Please, let there be electricity. That’s all I’m asking,” Chloe muttered and flipped the switch next to the door. The lamp on the ceiling flickered at first but then it bathed the hall in a soft orange glow. It was dusty, that much was clear. The rug on the floor had seen better days as well but it did make the place more homey and Chloe was glad for it. She pushed the door closed behind her, setting the suitcase down next to the staircase that wound its way up on her left, and began exploring.

The tiny bathroom right next to the front door wasn’t much. A shower, a toilet and a washing machine. The guest bathroom probably. Chloe closed the door again and ventured out through the archway that opened up into the living room straight ahead. It was spacious and the decor looked way more expensive than anything Chloe had ever owned. There was a fireplace, the mantle lined with old picture frames, and a huge L-shaped couch that someone had covered with a plastic sheet to save it from all the dust. What caught Chloe’s gaze, though, was the chandelier. It hung in the middle of the living room and was shaped like a tree, branches curling upwards, each tip holding a tiny light. It was extravagant, not something that would ever look quite right in a tiny apartment, but here it fit. On the right, the living area was directly connected to the dining area that in turn led into the kitchen. As she went she switched on the lights and opened some of the blinds along the way, letting in the last rays of the setting sun. They revealed even more dust and Chloe vowed to clean the place tomorrow after work. Tonight she was just too tired. She’d rather just have a shower, make up a bed and make the most of her night before getting up at the crack of dawn to drive back into the city.

The wooden staircase in the hall led up to a narrow hallway. It stretched from one end of the house to the other, a window on each side. Two doors on the left and two doors on the right. The first on the left stood open and Chloe dragged her suitcase into the huge bedroom. It was sparsely furnished but all she really needed was the king-sized bed underneath the windows that offered a picturesque view of the backyard.

The first door on the right turned out to be the master bathroom, which, like most of the house, desperately needed a thorough cleaning. Next on the right was a second bedroom, smaller than the first but in its own way very cozy. She closed the door with an ominous creak from the protesting hinges and wandered all the way to the end of the hallway, turning the handle of the last room on the left. Or tried to turn. It wouldn’t budge. At first, she thought maybe it was just stuck but it seemed to be locked. With a shrug she gave it up. Maybe the key was around here somewhere. If not, she could always try to pick it or just not go in at all. After all, this wasn’t her house.

Turning back towards her chosen bedroom, she couldn’t help an involuntary shiver. It felt like she’d just stepped outside, the air suddenly so cold she could see the fog of her breath. She rubbed her arms against the sudden cold and checked whether the window behind her wasn’t shut all the way but found it closed.

“Faulty air conditioning,” she mumbled. “Great.”

Back in the bedroom she upended her suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed and rummaged through her clothes until she found a comfy pair of sweatpants and a sweater, her toiletries and a towel. The shower in the bathroom was easy to figure out and she made quick work of washing her hair and massaging her sore back muscles under the hot water. Emerging from the shower in a cloud of steam, she hurried to slip into the sweats to ward off the chill, then wiped at the mirror to take a look at her tangled hair.

She looked bone tired. It wasn’t exactly a novelty lately. Losing the apartment, no matter how shitty it had been, had taken its toll on her. She needed sleep. Leaning closer, she inspected the dark circles underneath her eyes that seemed awfully prominent in the bright light of the bathroom. Grimacing, she leaned back again—and almost screamed. Someone stood behind her. She whirled around, her heart hammering in her chest.

There was no one there. Not in the mirror nor in the room. But she could have sworn … she knew she’d seen movement near the window. She shivered and pressed her hand to her chest until her heart resumed a somewhat normal pace. Quickly, she gathered her clothes and hurried back into the bedroom.

“You’re being paranoid. That’s all,” Chloe argued with her stubbornly panicked mind. “It’s your own fault for declaring it a horror movie house first thing.”

She just needed sleep. Her stomach disagreed, though, so dinner first it was.

From the front pocket of her suitcase she produced a box of Kraft Dinner. Not exactly the greatest of meals but she’d picked up the few ingredients she needed at a gas station on the way here and it was quick and easy. The stove top had to be wiped down first. The tap sputtered for a minute before it decided to spew forth icy water.

As she stirred the pasta she hummed a non-distinct melody that was suddenly interrupted by her phone ringing and vibrating in the back pocket of her jeans. She put the wooden spoon aside for a moment and fished for the ringing phone. The caller ID showed a grinning picture of Trixie.

“Monkey,” she greeted as she answered the call. “Shouldn’t you be in bed already? It’s a school night.”

“I was in bed. But I couldn’t sleep, so Daddy said I could call you to say goodnight.”

Chloe hummed. “I’m sorry, you couldn’t fall asleep. Do you want to tell me a little bit about your day before you go back to bed?”

“Nothing much happened. I wanna know about the house. Is it big? Does it have a garden?”

Chloe shook her head in fond exasperation. Talking about the house was most likely the only reason her daughter called. “It is quite big for our standards, babe. And yes, there’s a garden but no one has mowed the lawn in a long time.”

“When can I come visit?”

“Not during the week, Trixie. You have school. But I’ll pick you up on Friday and you can spend the weekend with me. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Trixie said with excitement. “I’ll bring my soccer ball on Friday, then. We can play soccer in the garden.”

“Looking forward to it,” Chloe said. “Now get back to bed, you little weasel. I have to go, I’m making dinner. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy. Goodnight.”

“Night, Monkey.”

She hung up and quickly checked on the pasta. It had started to stick to the bottom of the pan, so she hastily gave it a final good stir before turning down the heat.

A quick search of the cabinets produced a bowl and she poured the entire contents of the pan into it. Three servings according to the box. On her way to the living room, the bowl in both hands, she froze when her eyes fell on the rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen. It slowly swayed back and forth. Chloe just stared. She hadn’t even come near the chair. And yet, it moved as if someone had just sat in it.

“What the hell?” Maybe one of the windows wasn’t quite shut? It could have been a breeze. She glanced towards the windows and back to the chair. It had stopped moving. Chloe blinked rapidly, then shook her head and made for the couch. Sleep deprivation sure did some funny things to your mind.

Pulling off the plastic covering the couch and suppressing the five or ten oncoming sneezes, she got comfortable and dug in. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now. Half the bowl was empty before she slowed down a little.

She let her eyes wander around the room, over the bookshelves and the record player. The light from the chandelier wasn’t very bright but all the more cozy. Perhaps, if there was any firewood in the shed she’d spied in the backyard, she could unearth her latent girl scout skills and try her luck at getting a fire going in the fireplace. Not that it was cold in LA in November but on rainy days nothing could beat a fire.

The picture frames on the mantel were mostly empty, only one held a picture of a family. Putting the bowl down on the coffee table, she got up to take a closer look. It showed a family with three kids ranging from Trixie’s age to teenagers. It looked to be from the 70s maybe, judging by the fashion. Had they lived here once?

The hairs in the back of her neck suddenly stood on end, her paranoia acting up again. She felt someone watching her, eyes fixed on the back of her head. Gritting her teeth, she suppressed a shiver and turned around. She was alone. Entirely alone. No one stood behind her.

“Dammit, snap out of it. This is getting ridiculous.”

Frustrated, she grabbed the bowl and disposed of it in the sink, not bothering to do the dishes. She stomped up the stairs, flicking off all the lights on her way, and closed the door to the bedroom firmly behind her. For the next ten minutes she struggled with putting fresh sheets on the bed but it was all the more satisfying to finally slip underneath the covers. Staring at the ceiling in the dark, she took a fortifying breath.

“Now … there’s no one here. There’s no need to worry. Just sleep.”

The fact that her firearm was right next to her on the nightstand betrayed her determinedly calm facade.

* * *

Someone was walking down the hallway.

Chloe’s eyes snapped open, fixed on the door handle. Slowly, and as quietly as she could, she sat up and reached for her gun. The footsteps were slow, reminiscent of a saunter. She’d been right: someone was in the house. Shit—maybe that someone had even watched her shower earlier. She glanced at the phone on her nightstand. Should she call the police?

Before she could decide, the steps passed her door and then slowly descended the stairs. Chloe slipped out of bed, gun in both hands, finger carefully placed next to the trigger. Whoever it was, she didn’t plan on shooting them. Best case scenario, she could just convince them that there was nothing to steal and to leave the house before she called the cops.

Her door squealed horribly as she nudged it open. A breeze met her from the window at the end of the hall. It definitely hadn’t been open before. Checking left and right and all the while keeping an eye on the stairs, she moved into the hallway.

_Bang!_

The door to her room slammed shut behind her. Chloe jumped forward, her finger trembling near the trigger of her gun. Her heart sat in her throat, beating away like a drum. Then frustration bubbled up and overrode the fear. “You’re not playing that game with me,” she spat and turned the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. She slammed her palm against the wood and even threw her shoulder into the unforgiving door but it was no use.

Then she heard the footsteps again. Coming up the stairs. And they were fast.

Chloe didn’t hesitate. She ran down the hallway, somehow not daring to look behind her. The second bedroom door stood open and she slipped inside and hastily slammed it shut, pressing her full body weight against it. The footsteps had slowed again but they were right on the other side of the door when they stopped. Chloe held her breath, her own heartbeat the loudest thing in the room. Her fingers were sweaty on her gun. She didn’t think she would hit any sort of target right now.

A giggle sounded in the hallway. A child laughing? At first, Chloe could tell it came from the other side of the door. Then the sound shifted. The laughter reverberated eerily, coming from everywhere at once. The blinds on the windows inside the room rattled. A shadow emerged from the curtains and Chloe had no time to make out what it was before it came at her, screeching like a banshee. Chloe turned and desperately tried to open the door, _flight_ and _run_ the only two thoughts taking shape in her mind. The door wouldn’t move and, although breathless, Chloe yelled, terror overtaking her. She’d dropped her gun, one foot stemmed against the door frame as she pulled on the handle with both hands. The laughter still sounded from every direction, louder and gleeful in a way that made Chloe want to throw up. The blinds rattled. Her yells grew louder.

From one moment to the next everything went quiet.

All she could do was stand there, her forehead pressed against the door, eyes closed. She could feel someone behind her. Swore she could feel someone’s breath on the back of her neck. But there was no warmth. Instead whoever— _whatever_ was behind her was cold as ice.

“Please,” Chloe breathed. “Please don’t.”

She heard an exhale and then, as quickly as it had come, the cold disappeared. It remained eerily quiet. Nothing from behind her. Nothing from the hallway. Chloe couldn’t move. She counted to twenty, and then added another ten for good measure, before she tried the handle again. It turned easily and the relief that filled her clashed with the adrenaline, making her dizzy.

She took one more moment to breathe. Then she ran.

In her room, she grabbed her bag and all the clothes that were still in it, her keys and phone off the nightstand, and she was downstairs before she knew it. The front door fell closed behind her, unlocked, but she didn’t care. Hurrying down the gravel path in nothing but her pajamas, stumbling in the pitch black of the night, she made it to the gate and to her car. Not once did she look back at the house. She had an awful feeling that she’d see a silhouette in one of the upstairs windows.

She shouldn’t be driving. Not in this state. Not while her heart still hadn’t calmed down. Not while she was freaking out with no idea what had just happened. Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this terrified. But terrified by whom? By _what_? Was the house haunted? Like, actually truly haunted? Had she been running from a ghost?

“No, dammit! Shit—” Chloe slammed on the breaks and pulled over. She had no idea where she was even going. Not back to the house, that was for sure. A motel it was, then. She just had to get there in one piece. Shit, she’d even left her gun behind in her terror. What had she been thinking? “You can do this.”

On the drive further into the city Chloe told herself it had to have been some practical joke. A couple of guys had broken in and played a prank on her. Nothing more. And she had let herself get freaked out. Her sleep-deprivation probably didn’t do her any favors, either. This was ridiculous. But she wasn’t about to go back to _Dire Oaks_ tonight. She had almost reached the motel she’d seen on her drive to the house anyway. She’d go back to the house tomorrow after work and hopefully the rest of her stuff would still be there. Especially her firearm. She had no idea how she would explain losing that one.

The _vacancy_ sign above the parking lot flickered like a strobe. Chloe parked her cruiser right underneath. After convincing the scrawny guy at the front desk that she had not stolen the car and that there was a good reason why she was driving around in her pajamas, he handed her a key and Chloe wasted no more time, barricading herself in the seedy room. The bed was awfully narrow and the mattress lumpy but Chloe forced her eyes closed. She _had_ to sleep or she would keel over at work tomorrow. At least the fact that she was on desk duty meant that she could drink coffee after coffee while filling out papers mindlessly.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she mumbled into her pillow.

But the thought of someone’s icy breath in her neck almost convinced her of the opposite.

Almost.


	2. Pretty sure it's haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back! Thank you for all your feedback on the first chapter. You're the best!  
> 

“You look awful. Did you sleep at all?”

“Wow, thanks, Dan. Good morning to you, too. Your tact knows no bounds as always.” Chloe glared at him. She knew she looked haggard. If you added up the few minutes of shut-eye she’d gotten last night, you’d end up with an hour maximum. Her concealer was no match for her current situation and she refused to wear sunglasses inside. People would think she had a hangover and she didn’t need the ridicule. Not after Palmetto.

Dan looked sufficiently chastised. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Everything okay?”

“No.”

“Want to elaborate on that?”

Chloe threw the file down on her desk and buried her face in both hands. “I didn’t sleep, okay? It was a nightmare.”

“The house? Is it that bad? Were there rats?”

She glanced up at him, a look of _what the fuck_ in her eyes. “No, Dan. It wasn’t rats. I …” She hesitated. It was going to sounds nuts. “I stayed at a motel last night.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Trixie said you were at the house when she called.”

“I was.”

“Then what?”

“I’m pretty sure the stupid house is haunted.” She shrugged in a _what can you do about it?_ kind of way.

Dan laughed. “Are you serious?”

“No, not really. But there was someone at the house. Maybe several someones. And they played a prank on me.”

“They broke in?” Now she had Dan’s attention. “Why didn’t you call the cops?”

“I was freaking out, okay? They—I was terrified. And then I left. I never saw them. For all I know they planned this, it was way too elaborate to be a spontaneous prank,” Chloe said. “And with my luck they now have my firearm.”

“Chlo, this is serious. You should have called for backup. It’s still breaking and entering, even if it’s not your house.”

“I know. I don’t know what was wrong with me.”

“Do you want me to do something? Get someone on the case?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it. It was probably just some teenagers playing a practical joke. They weren’t out to hurt me.” And she was sure of it. Whoever had been in the house with her, they hadn’t had any violent intentions. They had had plenty of opportunities to hurt her but they hadn’t. They were out to have a morbid kind of fun, nothing more.

“So, you’re going back there tonight?”

“Of course, I am. Half my stuff is back there and I don’t have anywhere else to stay.” Plus, gossip in the precinct spread like a wildfire. It had taken less than a week for everyone to know that she’d been demoted after she’d stuck her neck out on the Palmetto case. And less than two days later everyone knew that she couldn’t afford her rent anymore. Then came the eviction and the snickers and hateful looks had followed her throughout the entire precinct. They knew she’d had to leave Trixie with Dan. They knew she now stayed somewhere far out in the outskirts of LA. And Chloe knew that if she moved again, they’d only have one more reason to laugh at her.

“I could come along, if you need me to. Or you could stay for a night on my couch. Trixie would love it.”

Chloe gave Dan a grateful smile but shook her head. “Dan, staying on your couch isn’t a solution. Especially not, if hunting for a new apartment is going to take me weeks.”

He knew that. They’d talked about it for hours. Dan had this fantasy in his mind that it would help bring them closer again. That maybe they’d fix things and avoid the divorce. Chloe wished it were that easy. She didn’t want to say it to his face but she didn’t think their marriage was in any way salvageable. She loved Dan. But she wasn’t in love with him anymore. They had grown apart and Trixie had quickly become their sole common interest.

“I’ll take Trixie on the weekend. She’s excited to come see the house.”

“Yeah,” Dan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “She goes on and on about it. Anyways,” he clapped his hands together and then pointed somewhere over his shoulder, “I’ve got to go. Got a case. Let me know, if you want to grab lunch later?”

“I’ll be here all day. Desk duty, remember?”

“Right. I’ll come see you when I’m back, then.”

Chloe gave a half-hearted wave as he left and returned to her paperwork, making follow-up calls for other detectives, scheduling interviews—mindless work. Every now and then her mind would wander, thinking back to the events of the night before. Whenever that happened she got up and went to get a fresh cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would fire up her brain enough to concentrate on other things.

The fingers of the clock on the wall moved slowly. She’d never noticed how long a day at work could be when you were stuck behind your desk, staring at a blinking cursor for hours on end. Again and again, her eyes would wander to the time in the bottom right of the screen. It crawled slower and slower. In the end, Chloe left early. There wasn’t anything to do anyways. Dan still hadn’t returned from wherever he’d gone, so she shot him a text. He assured her he’d pick up Trixie on time without Chloe asking, which made it obvious to Chloe that he’d forgotten until just now. Sighing, she grabbed her bag and sneaked out, only waving the new forensic Ella goodbye, when she spotted her in her lab. The young tech was a bright and enthusiastic woman, always putting a smile on everyone’s face. Chloe liked her immediately. Maybe, she thought, she could go have lunch with her tomorrow. Dan would stand her up anyway.

The drive back to the house took Chloe longer than anticipated. The traffic was unbelievable and she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as the cars crawled along at a snail’s pace. Dark clouds filled the sky ahead, promising a storm. When Chloe finally pulled into the street at the end of which stood her current home, she’d pretty much lost all the time she’d gained from leaving early, and she parked her car a little too abruptly, stomping her foot on the breaks.

Until now, she’d managed to keep her thoughts from turning around the house and the possible intruders but when she looked upon it, they all came rushing back. Trepidation filled her as she walked up to the gate. It wasn’t dark, yet. In the remaining sunlight the house looked less creepy. Almost inviting even, a house with personality. The front door was still unlocked just as she’d left it. Pushing it open, she called out with a soft “Hello?” but of course there was no answer. Even if whoever it was was still inside the house, they’d be dumb to announce themselves.

Chloe gathered all her courage and determinedly stomped up the stairs. She approached the second bedroom first, hoping to find her firearm where she’d dropped it the night before but when she pushed open the door there was no trace of it. She sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “They’re going to kill me. Or fire me entirely. Shit.”

Dejected, she trudged back into her room and took in the mess that were her clothes at the end of the bed. She pushed them down, carelessly spreading them on the floor and flopped down on the bed face-down. Yelling into the pillow wouldn’t help, she thought. She did it anyways. Just to be sure. When breathing got difficult, she turned her head to the side, her eyes landing on the nightstand.

“No way,” she breathed. Her gun lay there. Placed on an open book, the safety on and no worse for wear. Chloe quickly sat up and grabbed it, checking the clip. Fully loaded still. “Thank you,” she said with a glance upwards. She really hadn’t been looking forward to explaining she’d lost her firearm to an intruder and hadn’t even called it in. Chloe pulled open the drawer in the nightstand, removed the clip from the gun and carefully placed both inside. Then she took a closer look at the book. It was opened on a random page, the beginning of chapter twenty-one. She grabbed it and looked at the cover. The title was entirely unfamiliar and so was the author. Looking back at the pages, she read the first sentence.

_‘Leave,’ Grayson said and slammed the door shut._

Chloe gulped. Hard. What the hell kind of game was this? Was this a message? Had they wanted her to read this? “This is seriously fucked up, you hear me?!” Her voice reverberated in the sparsely furnished room and she cringed at the sound of it. She ought to call her mom and ask her what the hell she’d been thinking getting her to stay here. Chloe just wanted to vent her frustration and her mom seemed like a good outlet. It wasn’t Penelope’s fault but Chloe wanted to blame someone for her lack of sleep, wanted to yell at someone that she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight, either.

And she hadn’t even started looking into new apartments again. Once again, she buried her face in the pillow and groaned.

Half an hour later she made her way back downstairs, locking the front door when she passed it. It had started raining, the downpour heavy and the wind whirling leaves through the air. Standing at the window in the living room, Chloe’s eyes landed on the shed. She still hadn’t checked it for firewood. Now there was an idea.

Wrapped in her windbreaker she turned the lock on the back door that led down a couple of steps into the backyard. The grass came up to her knees and her jeans got wet almost immediately as she waded through it towards the shed. The wind blew the rain into her face despite her arms trying to shield it. The door of the shed was kept closed with a small latch that was so rusty that Chloe had some trouble sliding it open. But it paid off. Inside were heaps of firewood along with some gardening tools, flower pots and a bike with two flat tires.

“Jackpot,” she cheered and loaded up a basket she found upended next to the door. In the end it was almost too heavy to carry but she heaved it all the way back to the house, a pleasant anticipation filling her.

Soon after, the living room was plunged in the glow of a roaring fire as night fell. Chloe made herself tea and brought her blanket downstairs to curl up on the couch. It was wonderfully cozy. She sent off a text to Dan that everything was fine, no one was at the house and nothing had been stolen and he agreed that it had probably been a prank, then.

Chloe breathed a little easier with his assurance. Maybe she’d get some sleep tonight after all.

A sudden loud bang almost had her spill her tea. A window in the kitchen had been blown open by the wind, probably not quite closed in the first place. It slammed shut once more, the glass shaking from the impact. Chloe got up quickly, her heart still racing a little, and went to close it. The window blew open once more right as she reached it and she got a face full of rain for her trouble. Annoyed, she grabbed the window and firmly pushed it closed, rattling it once to check whether the latch would hold. Satisfied, she relaxed and wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

Movement outside caught her eye. There, between the trees at the edge of the yard—was someone standing there? Chloe leaned closer to the window pane, trying to make out whatever it was through the heavy downpour. It wasn’t more than a shadow. A weirdly shaped bush maybe. It was creepy nonetheless. She shook herself and quickly returned to the warmth of the fire.

Using her phone as a hotspot—the house didn’t have such luxuries as Wifi—Chloe began apartment hunting as she sipped from her rapidly cooling mug of tea. An hour and a half later, she had sent out exactly one inquiry. And even that had been a stab in the dark, the rent quite a bit higher than her monthly budget allowed. Groaning, she put her tablet down and downed the rest of her tea. The fire was slowly dying. It was getting late and Chloe was bone-tired. There was no sense in staying up any longer. Maybe she’d find more time to look for a new place this coming weekend, tonight it all seemed pointless. Hopefully, after a good night’s sleep things would look up.

She’d definitely jinxed it by thinking that.

* * *

Chloe bolted upright in bed, her phone blinking the numbers _2.30_ at her. And from the adjacent room a piano sounded. It wasn’t a haunting melody per se, but any and all piano music sounded terrifying when it was two in the morning and you were alone at home. Should she call for help? Would they get here before whoever it was made themselves scarce? Maybe she could trap them until then.

She slipped out of bed and grabbed her gun and clip. The quiet _snick_ of her loading the weapon seemed impossibly loud. Out in the hallway the piano was even louder. Chloe sneaked towards the door that had been locked yesterday. It was closed still but Chloe had no way of knowing whether it was locked or not without trying the handle. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Chloe turned the door knob.

No dice.

Still locked. The piano continued, shifting into a different melody seamlessly. As far as Chloe could tell it was an actual instrument being played, not a recording. Someone was in there playing. Frustrated, and suddenly not at all scared anymore, Chloe hammered against the door.

“Hey! Hey, come on, open up! You have no right to be in here!”

The music didn’t stop. If anything, it swelled in volume.

Chloe kicked the door. “I swear I’ll break down this door right after I call the cops!”

This time the piano fell quiet, ending on a broken chord. Chloe heard a sigh, then nothing.

“Hey, you hear me?” she tried again but there was no answer. “I swear to God, if you’re climbing out the window, I’ll—” She didn’t know what she would do. But she hoped the half-threat would be intimidating enough. She listened, one ear almost touching the door but nothing could be heard from the other side. Once again, Chloe tried the handle, her gun still in her right hand.

She rattled the knob, her anger growing by the second, when suddenly the temperature in the hallway dropped. Chloe jumped backwards. Her breath came out in little foggy puffs, the hairs on her arms standing on end. It was a primal sort of fear that rushed through her. The fear of knowing she was being watched, _knowing_ there was someone right behind her. It was impossible. But she _knew._

“Whoever you are, you need to leave,” she stuttered out, her voice unusually small.

She jumped when a squeak sounded to her right. The window. It had fogged up in the sudden cold, condensation gathering on the pane. And in the fog letters appeared, an invisible finger sliding up and down against the glass, eerily slow.

_you leave_

Chloe’s heart beat out of her chest. She backed away, her gun dangling from limp fingers. What use was a gun anyways? Her mouth stood open, eyes still fixed on the message on the window, but she felt like she couldn’t draw a breath.

“How is that possible?” she mumbled mindlessly, backing up further. The door to the second bedroom suddenly opened swiftly and slammed shut again. Chloe couldn’t hold back the scream. Scrambling to find hold on her socked feet, she ran back to her room, then barricaded the door with the chest that stood at the end of the bed. She knew there were tears running down her face. She dropped the gun and fell to the floor right next to it, eyes fixed on the door, her mind not able to hang on to a single thought.

“Please, let this all be a dream. I’m dreaming. This isn’t real.”

Her vision tunneled down, edges blurry and dark. She didn’t know whether she was breathing or not. It could have been minutes later, maybe hours later, when Chloe finally became aware of her surroundings again. Her hip bone hurt from sitting awkwardly on the floor. She was freezing, adrenaline gone and her legs bare on the cold hardwood. The gun lay at her feet, the safety off. Had she flicked it off in her terror? Had she been about to shoot? She couldn’t remember.

All she knew was the house was definitely haunted. After what she’d just witnessed, there was no denying it anymore.

She should run. She probably really should. But Chloe had nowhere to go.

What was she even going to say? Oh, there’s a ghost at _Dire_ _Oaks_ and I think it really doesn’t want me there. Dan would have her committed. No, running wasn’t an option. But then what? Could a ghost be talked into letting her stay?

Gingerly, she climbed to her feet and searched for her phone. It had fallen from her nightstand but thankfully the screen hadn’t cracked. Half past three in the morning according to the bright digits on her phone. There was no way she’d go and sleep at the motel again. Sleep in general seemed like a futile endeavor at the moment.

In the end, Chloe sneaked back downstairs wrapped into the biggest hoodie she owned. The house was absolutely silent and dark to boot. She flicked on the chandelier in the living room, her eyes flying into every corner. But there was no one there.

“Of course, there’s no one there,” Chloe scolded herself. After all, ghosts were invisible, right? She prowled towards the kitchen and got herself a glass of water just to have something to do. She pulled a chair out from the dining table, giving the living room another once-over just to be sure. Then she sat down. And waited.

For what she waited she wasn’t sure. Another sign from the ghost? Another heart-stopping scare? No way.

Chloe Decker wouldn’t let herself be backed into a corner. She would take the bull by its horns and do something about it. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen?

“So,” she spoke into the dimness of the living room. “Um … anyone there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming on Wednesday. Thanks for reading!


	3. Meeting the House Ghost

“Hello?” She didn’t get an answer and she was beginning to feel more and more ridiculous. She persevered, though. “Well, okay, here goes nothing … Hi, Mr. Ghost, sir. I don’t know if you can hear me … I just—” She ran both hands through her hair, then continued. “I’m sorry, if I’m intruding here. Like, if this is your house. I don’t mean to bother you. But I literally have no other place to go at the moment. It’s … it’s complicated. But I was hoping you could maybe let me stay here for a few weeks and stop it with the haunting?” She posed it as a question but of course the thin air had no intention of giving her an answer. So she went on. “I wouldn’t even be here a lot. I’m at work all day. I’ll only be here to sleep. Well, except for the weekends, I guess. So … can you maybe give me some sort of sign? Like, an okay of some sort? Or even a hard pass, if that’s how you feel about it?”

“You’re much nicer about this than the previous inhabitants.”

Chloe literally fell off the chair. She scrambled upright as quickly as she could.

A man stood there, leaning against the back of the couch, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. The first thing Chloe noticed was that he was ridiculously tall. Then her brain caught up. “Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?”

“I believe you just requested me to give you an answer. So, here I am.” He spread his arms wide. “And the answer is no, by the way.”

“Impossible,” Chloe gasped. Her hands shook. She clenched them to fists to hide it, steeling herself. “Are you … I mean, who …?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Lucifer Morningstar. And yes, this is my house. At least I’ve claimed it. So, once again, I implore you to leave.”

“Lucifer Morningstar? Are you kidding me?”

“Got a problem with my name?”

“Is it a stage name?”

He huffed. “No. God-given, I’m afraid.”

Chloe was having serious trouble finding any words. “And you’re … are you a ghost?”

His form flickered like a television with a bad signal. Chloe gaped. Lucifer just scowled. “I’m not a ghost.”

“But you—”

“Just because I’m incorporeal it doesn’t mean I’m a bloody ghost.”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

Lucifer glared at her, then scoffed. “This is tedious.” He flickered and—disappeared.

“No, wait!” Chloe reached out to where he’d stood but there was nothing but air. “Come back. Please.” She whirled around, trying to spot any sign of him, a part of her still convinced she was hallucinating, but there was no trace of him. “Come on, _please_. We need to talk about this. You can’t just say no.”

“Oh, can’t I?”

Chloe flinched violently and couldn’t help the yelp that escaped her. He stood right behind her, speaking into her left ear. She turned to face him, taking half a step back to keep at least a semblance of personal space. He radiated an icy cold that even seeped through Chloe’s thick hoodie at the proximity. This close, she got a better look at his face. His eyes were dark pools, she guessed they were a deep brown. Artful stubble covered his jaw, his hair dark and slightly curly. He was handsome but the glare in his eyes made him look outright dangerous.

Chloe shook herself and took another step back. “Look, I’m sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I—I’m Chloe Decker.” She held out her hand.

He stared at it like he’d never seen one. “Are you quite right in the head?”

“Excuse me?”

“Hello? We’ve established that I’m incorporeal, yes?”

He reached for her hand and Chloe gasped as his fingers went right through hers. It felt like plunging her hand into a bucket of ice water. Hastily, she pulled her hand back. “Holy shit!” Her eyes flew back to his face. The glare had disappeared. Instead he looked almost mournful, a deep sadness had overtaken his features, his own gaze fixed on his hand. Then he quickly hid it back in his suit pocket.

“Case in point,” he quipped. “Now, what do you feel we _need_ to talk about, Chloe Decker?”

Chloe steeled herself. Talking to a ghost. No big deal. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“And that should concern me because …?”

“Because you have a bedroom upstairs that you’re not using anyways?” she offered with a hopeful smile.

“Would you just welcome strangers to stay in your home, especially if they invite themselves?”

“How was I supposed to know you lived here?”

“I thought I made that quite obvious last night.” Lucifer crossed his arms in front of his chest defiantly.

Chloe just huffed. “What, by scaring me to death?”

His face fell. “I—I’m sorry for frightening you. I thought it the easiest way to get you to leave. Everyone else does.”

Chloe gave him a weak smile. “Maybe try talking first next time.” His face contorted into a grimace for a split second at her suggestion and Chloe immediately regretted her words. He was _a ghost_. Most people probably wouldn’t sit down for a civilized talk with him. Tentatively, Chloe asked, “When’s the last time you talked to someone?”

Lucifer regarded her with an unreadable expression, his head tilted to the side as if he was trying to figure her out. Then he disappeared. Chloe threw her arms up and was about to yell, when she noticed him standing next to the fireplace that still held a few glowing embers. She stepped closer but stayed near the couch, not daring to approach him. He didn’t look at her, when he spoke. “I’ve been alone here for a long time. And I do not need company. I’m sorry that you are homeless at the moment but I stand by what I said: You need to leave. This place isn’t yours and you’re not welcome.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe began. The name felt weird to use when addressing someone but she decided not to dwell on it. After all, she was talking to an _actual ghost._ Nothing could out-weird that. “I’m begging you—”

“ _Don’t!_ ” Lucifer suddenly stood inches away from her, his face right in front of hers, the cold he emitted biting her skin. Chloe had to fight the urge to back away. His growl seemed otherworldly, sending chills down the spine. “You will _not_ beg. And you will _not_ stay.”

“Just give me a few days, Lucifer,” Chloe asked. “Just a couple days. We can give this a try. We can coexist. You can even keep playing the piano all through the night. I won’t complain.”

“You better not. It’s my house, I can play whenever I want.”

“Does that mean I can stay?”

“No.”

“Ugh, come on. Maybe we can both benefit from this. Isn’t there something I can do for you?”

Lucifer stilled. Once again he tilted his head to the side, then a smile slowly appeared on his face. It wasn’t malevolent but not exactly friendly, either. It was … cocky. “You want to make a deal with me?”

Chloe shrugged. “Sure, why not? Tell me what I can do in return for you letting me stay here.”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, thinking. After a moment he stood straighter, still regarding her like she was a novelty. “I’ll get back to you,” he said finally and before Chloe could inquire any further, he was gone. For good this time. He didn’t reappear on the other side of the living room and Chloe even checked the kitchen and the hallway, calling out to him tentatively, but he didn’t show.

“So, can I stay the rest of the night?” she asked thin air, not expecting him to answer. He hadn’t been very clear on whether or not he’d accepted the deal but she was just going to assume so because Chloe wasn’t about to go back to the motel at five in the morning. With any luck she could get another hour of sleep before she had to get ready for work anyways. Another night wasted. This time on conversations with a dead guy. Her life just kept getting better and better.

The next morning—or rather an hour later, take your pick—Chloe came downstairs again. There had been no more piano playing, no more footsteps or sudden cold spots. No sign of the ghost—Lucifer—since he’d disappeared. Chloe wasn’t sure it was a good thing but she didn’t have time to contemplate it. Quickly, she made a cup of instant coffee and gulped it down. She couldn’t help constantly checking over her shoulder. The fact that he didn’t show almost made Chloe doubt that any of it had happened at all. Maybe her sleep-deprived mind had finally snapped.

Either way, she thought, if he never showed again, it was just as well. And if he did, she’d deal with it.

In the hall she shrugged on her jacket and pulled open the front door. Turning to face the house once more, she waited for a couple of seconds. Still nothing. “All right. Goodbye, Lucifer. I’ll be back tonight.” Whether he liked it or not.

Work was just as tedious as the day before. After refilling her coffee cup an acceptable amount of times—that was a lie, Chloe had lost count and was sure by now she’d reached an unhealthy number of cups—she knocked on the door of Ella’s lab, hoping for some company during lunch. The forensic immediately agreed.

“I’m super glad we’re doing this!”Ella chattered almost non-stop all the way from the precinct to the hole-in-the-wall Thai place that Chloe planned to introduce her to. Secretly, Chloe was relieved Ella had accepted her invitation to go out for lunch together. The forensic hadn’t worked at the precinct for very long, had become part of the team just as Chloe became the outcast. But Ella didn’t seem to mind. She associated with her willingly, had literally jumped at the chance to spend time with Chloe. She thanked Chloe cheerfully for holding the door for her and literally skipped into the restaurant.

“I love these places. They have so much character. Do you know any bars like this? We could go out for drinks some time.”

Chloe couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Ella probably knew how to party. “A few. We’d find a place.”

“You know, Detroit is so different from LA but I don’t regret coming here. It’s a new start. Hey, you’ve got a kid, right?”

“Yeah, a daughter. Trixie. She just turned eight.”

“And you and Dan Espinoza? You both take care of her?”

“We’re working on getting our divorce finalized. But yes, we’re trying to keep things as normal for Trixie as we can.”

Ella’s expression turned immediately sympathetic. “Oh, I know. Divorce and all that can be hard on a kid. But I think you and Dan are handling that really well.” Ella dug into her fried noodles, then slowed down a bit. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping. Sometimes the words just come out. We barely know each other, so, you know, you don’t have to answer all of my obnoxious questions. Sometimes I have no filter.”

Chloe shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s all common knowledge at the precinct anyways.”

Ella hummed, then offered, “If you need any help house hunting, I can start looking into apartments.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” Chloe waved her off.

“It wouldn’t be a problem. I’d love to help. I have many talents, among them the ridiculous tendency to just stumble upon the best deals. You want to go on a cheap shopping spree? Just take me along.”

“That sounds like an actually useful talent.”

“I know, right?” Ella said, putting on a very serious face before cracking up. “I’m serious, girl. Let me know, if you need any help.”

“I appreciate it. God knows I can’t stay at that house forever.”

“Is it full of spiders?”

Chloe huffed out a laugh. “That and it’s haunted.”

Ella’s attention peaked at that. “Oh, I love me a good ghost story. Do the lights flicker constantly?”

“Hm, no. No flickering lights, yet. But I mean it, the first night I was seriously freaked out.” Chloe debated telling Ella everything that had happened these last two nights but eventually decided her blooming friendship with the forensic was still too new. Too fragile. The truth was just too weird. Ella would think her nuts. “I guess, there are just a lot of sounds in the house that I’m not used to.”

“Is there a creaking staircase? Those always get me. Especially in movies.” She downed the rest of her lemonade, her expression suddenly hesitant. “Sometimes I think there has to be some truth to it all. You know? Ghosts and magic and all that. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the Big Guy and I believe we have somewhere to go after it’s all over. But what if there’s a glitch in the system and you get stuck on Earth? It must suck.”

“Yeah,” Chloe pondered. “It must be awful. Not being able to talk to anyone.”

Ella cleared her throat a little awkwardly. “Sounds like a terrible fate, if you ask me. On a different note, this tastes amazing.” She offered her noodles to Chloe, switching them for her veggies. “Anyways, if the house hunting doesn’t work out, we should totally go ghost hunting instead.”

Chloe lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Do you think we can fight the ghosts with my vacuum cleaner?”

“If nothing gives,” Ella whispered back, “we could always just watch _Ghostbusters_ instead.”

“Deal.”

* * *

The sun had already set, when she finally pulled up to the gate again. Chloe had spent the day trying to convince herself that she’d lost her mind. Ghosts. Ridiculous. A ghost called Lucifer Morningstar. Even more ridiculous. The only thing convincing her that it had been real was the fact that she didn’t think that her mind could have ever come up with something as crazy as this. She knew what she’d seen and it had been just as bizarre as it had been scary.

She hadn’t said a word to Dan. Mainly because they had barely had the chance to speak two words all day. He’d been in and out of the precinct in a rush, his current case heating up. Chloe envied him a little. She had no idea when or if she’d ever be relieved from desk duty. Her stomach turned at the thought of losing her rank as detective entirely. Losing _her job_ entirely. Homeless and without a job? How would she provide for Trixie?

“No, don’t think like that,” she admonished herself as the gravel of the pathway crunched underneath her feet on the way to the front door. The wind had blown more leaves onto the porch, the reds and oranges of fall speckling the dark wood. For a moment she paused, putting off going inside. She didn’t know what to expect. Would Lucifer Morningstar, resident ghost, be waiting for her inside? And if so, what was she going to say to him?

Deciding to take things as they came, Chloe entered the house, leaving her jacket and shoes at the door. Before she even set foot in the living room, she felt him. The cold spot she walked through was her first warning. Then the chandelier lit up on its own. She stared at it, her mouth hanging open, frozen mid-step.

“You’re back.”

He was sitting on the dining table, legs crossed underneath him. His suit was the same as the night before, so was the white shirt underneath. Chloe approached him slowly. “I said I would be.”

“You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.”

“How are you sitting _on_ the table?”

Lucifer frowned. “Pardon?”

“I mean, you’re not—not solid. So, how is it that you don’t fall through?”

He shrugged half-heartedly, flickered and suddenly reappeared on one of the chairs instead, his legs up on the table. “I try not to think about it too much. If I do, I start falling through. Tables, chairs … even the floor. It’s unpleasant.”

“I bet,” Chloe nodded and pulled out a chair to take a seat as well. “So, where were you this morning? You just … disappeared.”

“I was around.”

That sounded awfully ominous, but Chloe decided not to push. Instead she watched as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket, waiting for him to say something more.

“You may stay,” he began, his gaze never meeting hers. “But I’d like something in return.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed readily. “Of course. Just tell me what I can do.”

“I don’t take deals lightly.”

“Okay,” she said. “So, you’ll throw me out, if I don’t keep up my end. That’s only fair.”

“I’d rather it wouldn’t come to that.”

“All right.”

He looked up at her. Chloe thought he looked almost nervous. “Will you keep the fire going?”

She blinked at that. “The fire?” At his insistent glare she quickly added, “I mean, yeah, I guess. I can bring in some more firewood from the shed. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Will you keep it going throughout the night?”

“Well, I’ve got to sleep at some point. I can’t just stay up all night.”

He harrumphed. “Fine. As long as possible, then.”

Chloe nodded. “Is that all?”

“For now.”

Chloe blinked and he was gone. She looked around and found him standing at the back door. He was looking outside, still as a statue. Chloe was sure, he’d disappear again any second now, so she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Do you get cold?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m always cold. Can’t get warm. But the fire … last night was the first time in almost thirty years that I felt any semblance of warmth. It was …” He trailed off, never finishing the sentence.

Chloe immediately felt bad for him. After her talk with Ella she couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he was barred from. Conversations, touch, and apparently even warmth. Determined to fix at least one of those problems, she got up. “I’d better go out and get some more wood, then.” As she passed him, she stopped for a second and met his eyes. “Thank you. For letting me stay.”

Lucifer inclined his head in a slight bow. A moment later he was gone.

* * *

Ten minutes later she was stoking the fire with the poker until the flames danced, lighting up the dark corner of the living room with its warm glow. Lucifer hadn’t reappeared but Chloe knew he was in the room. She could feel it, couldn’t pinpoint it, though. He seemed to be invisible. Hiding. Waiting, perhaps. When the fire was in no danger of going out anymore, Chloe left it alone to go and make herself a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled, she quickly went to change out of her jeans into a more comfortable pair of sweatpants. It was late. Getting up tomorrow would be a bitch but Chloe had no intention of going to sleep just yet.

Carefully she carried her hot mug back to the couch, a smile stealing its way upon her face, when she saw Lucifer already curled up on it in the corner closest to the fireplace. He didn’t acknowledge her as she sat down, so Chloe left him alone for now. His gaze was fixed on the flames, wistful but content.

She didn’t know how long they sat quietly side by side, her tea already empty but she kept holding on to the mug. When she got up to put another log on the fire, Lucifer moved for the first time. His eyes followed her to the fireplace and back and didn’t wander again, even when she’d already settled again.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

The question came out of nowhere. Chloe had to think about it for a second, then tried to explain. “I was scared at first as you could probably tell by the way I high-tailed it out of here that first night. But you’re not so scary now that I know you’re here. And I like to think that in my line of work I’ve seen some scarier things than a ghost.”

Lucifer scoffed. “I’m not a bloody ghost.”

“Could have fooled me,” Chloe quipped and held up both hands in surrender at his glower.

“I am _not_ dead, got it?”

“All right. If you’re not dead, then what are you? Because to me it sounds like you’re in denial.”

He scowled and looked back into the flames. “I am the Devil.”

“And I’m the Queen of England. Seriously, why do you call yourself Lucifer?”

“That’s my name.”

“You’re not seriously telling me your parents named you after the Devil.”

“I _am_ the Devil.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, stretching the vowels. He was definitely in denial about having died. Understandably so, she thought. Who would want to be stuck as a ghost anyway? But straight up denying he had died at all? Maybe it was a coping mechanism. “What happened then? Why is the Devil haunting this house?”

His sigh was long-suffering. “My absolute bastard of a Father has decided to punish me for my disobedience, it seems. Again, I might add. I wasn’t supposed to leave Hell, but I did it anyways. I like it up here and apparently He thought I liked it a bit too much … enjoyed it too much. So, now I’m stuck here as punishment. On Earth, right where I wanted to be, but doomed to watch from the sidelines. Never to interact with humanity again.”

“That sounds a bit harsh, if you ask me. You had a bit of fun, so what? Why would you be punished for that?”

“Haven’t your heard? Everyone just loves to make me their scapegoat.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re not really the Devil. Even if you share his name.”

“I don’t lie, Chloe Decker.”

“You don’t lie?”

“Never. Point of pride for me actually.”

“Not what you would expect from the Devil, to be honest.”

Lucifer sighed. “Believe what you will.” Chloe was about to apologize because surely now she’d upset him, but he simply carried on. “What _do_ you do for a living?”

“Huh?”

“You said you’ve seen worse than a ghost in your line of work? So, what do you do?”

“Oh,” Chloe said. “I work for the LAPD. I’m a detective. Or, well, at least I was. Still am, but it’s complicated.”

“A detective? Do you wear a uniform?” Lucifer asked and to Chloe’s horror he pushed his tongue into his cheek lewdly.

“Ew. Stop that. I don’t wear a uniform.”

He pouted. “But you probably did at some point, isn’t that right, Detective?”

“Yeah, we’re so not going there. But while we’re on the topic of inappropriate,” she said and turned towards him. “I don’t know if you really were in the bathroom, when I showered that first night, but if you were, I’d like to ask you to _never_ watch me shower again. _Ever_.”

“Oh, please, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Lucifer!”

“Fine. I won’t go near the bathroom while you’re showering. The rest of the house is fair game, though, because I will not be contained even further.” He crossed his arms, glaring at the fire. “Will you bring me more music?”

Chloe frowned. “What?” His changes in topics would give her whiplash at some point. “Bring you music?”

He nodded towards the record player in the corner and the few records on the shelf next to it. “The same record has been on there for the past thirty years and I can’t change it. It bores me. Even worse, it’s on the B side. If you can’t bring me more, at least flip it once in a while.”

“How would you even—”

Before she could finish her question, the record player’s needle moved, dropping onto the record with an awful scratching sound as the turntable started spinning. _Davy’s on the Road Again_ began playing. As Chloe gaped at it, Lucifer grumbled, “Manfred Mann’s Earth Band. For thirty bloody years.” Then he disappeared. The record kept playing.


	4. The Room at the End of the Hall

It had to have been one of the worst days she’d ever spent at the precinct, Chloe thought.

Frustrated, she wiped away the tears that kept spilling down her cheeks as she navigated through city traffic, which, surprise, was worse than usual. Her phone started to ring on the passenger seat. She knew it was either Dan or her lieutenant. Both asking where the hell she’d disappeared to.

She hadn’t been able to bear another second at the precinct, so she’d left. Malcolm Graham, a fellow cop who’d been in a coma ever since the Palmetto case, was dying today. His family was pulling the plug on him and Chloe still hadn’t closed her investigation, convinced that Malcolm was as corrupt as they came. So, today, on his death day, Chloe had not only been ridiculed and harassed, she’d been spit at, someone had tripped her on her way up the stairs resulting in two painful bruises on both her shins, and another had spilled a full cup of coffee across her files, successfully rendering them unsalvageable.

Trying to avoid the breakdown in one of the bathroom stalls, Chloe had gathered up her things instead and had left about four hours early. Consequences be damned. She’d already been halfway home, when she’d hit the breaks, taking the next left to drive a little way back into the city. Which brought her to where she stood now, in front of a second-hand store that sold all sort of things, ranging from clothes to furniture to VHS tapes. And vinyl records.

The little bell above the door jingled, when she entered and the store clerk behind the cash register smiled at her warmly. Save for him the store was empty, no other customers in sight. She nodded in greeting and ambled through the narrow aisles until she found the shelves stacked with records. Chloe didn’t own any vinyls herself. She knew her mom had a whole collection, most of which once belonged to her dad, but she wasn’t about to ask her mom to part with them. She had debated on whether she should just dig up her old CD player or maybe download music on her tablet for Lucifer to listen to, but it didn’t feel right. He was clearly expecting records, so that’s what she was going to bring him.

The albums on the shelves were all second-hand, the price ranging from one to ten dollars. She pulled out a few, and slowly the pile in her arms started growing until she put them down on a rickety chair to the side. She had no idea what kind of music Lucifer liked, so she was going mostly by what she’d heard of before or what her dad used to play. If he hated them, she could still offer him her Spotify.

The man ringing up her items had a kind smile on his lips as he looked through her choices. “Newfound love for old things?” he asked, holding up an _Electric Light Orchestra_ album.

Chloe shook her head. “They’re for a friend. I want to surprise him and I wasn’t sure what he liked.”

“Well, I for one am glad that at least someone still wants to listen to these. There is something about playing a record like this that you don’t get streaming the music online, if you ask me.”

Chloe thanked him as he handed her a paper bag with her purchases and turned to leave. A few raindrops splattered against the windows, November proving its place in fall. It was still early in the afternoon. Chloe was looking forward to having all evening to spend at home, to spend with Lucifer. Was it weird to want to spend time with a ghost? Maybe. But Chloe vastly preferred Lucifer to her colleagues at work. Getting to know him was intriguing. Anticipation grabbed her, her bad day at the precinct almost forgotten, as she climbed back into her car and made for the suburbs.

That giddy anticipation was quickly sullied, though, when she pushed open the front door, calling out to Lucifer. There was no answer whatsoever. She peaked into the living room and kitchen, depositing her bags on the dining table, before going to look upstairs. “Lucifer?” she called out again. “You here?” She checked both bedrooms without any luck. In the end, she stood before the room at the end of the hallway and knocked hesitantly. “Hey, Lucifer, you in there?”

Still, there was no answer and the door stayed stubbornly locked. Chloe didn’t believe he was just gone. He had to be here somewhere. After all, he was haunting this house specifically. If he could just leave, surely he would have done so by now. Knocking a second time didn’t result in any change, either, so Chloe turned to go with a sigh. Back in her room, she fell down on the bed, arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling. She’d hoped Lucifer would serve as a welcome distraction after the day she’d had. Her phone still chimed from time to time with incoming messages and she knew she should really check them in case something serious had happened. But acknowledging her phone would mean acknowledging everything that was currently going wrong in her life and she simply didn’t have the energy to do that.

Deciding to turn her frustration and anger into productivity, Chloe found herself downstairs, digging through the little storage room. Armed with a vacuum cleaner, two buckets, several cloths and rubber gloves, Chloe began her cleaning spree. She filled the buckets with water in the guest bathroom and started right there. Scrubbing like a madman didn’t quite take her mind off her awful day but it was better than not doing anything at all. Reaching the living room about an hour later—nobody had lifted the rug in the hall for a long time and Chloe had found some horrors underneath—she dusted the bookshelves. It took her a little longer than strictly necessary, but she kept getting distracted, pulling out books and records. She found one by _The Stranglers_ and was immediately reminded of her dad. She flipped it over and checked the list of songs but his favorite wasn’t on it, so she placed the record back on the shelf and continued cleaning.

In the kitchen she realized that she now had the song stuck in her head and she ended up humming it as she worked.

An hour and a half later, she was done with the ground floor. And still there was no sign of Lucifer.

She’d checked all the kitchen cabinets for a key for the room at the end of the upstairs hallway but with no luck. Searching the bedrooms had brought similar results. She kept reminding herself that it wasn’t her house. Officially it belonged to whomever her mom had bribed to let Chloe stay here and unofficially it belonged to Lucifer. She had no right to go snooping in a locked room.

But her curiosity grew and eventually Chloe went to fetch a nail file and a few bobby pins from the bathroom. Armed with those she returned to the locked door down the hall. She kneeled and got to work. The lock proved to be more difficult than she would have thought, dealing with a door this age. She broke one bobby pin in the process and reached for a second one, when the light overhead started to flicker. She looked up, halting her work. The lamp returned to its steady glow, making Chloe frown. Had that just been a coincidence? Once more, she inserted the pin into the lock.

With a _pang_ the light bulb exploded. Chloe yelped and ducked, both hands above her head to avoid ending up with glass shards in her face. For a few heartbeats she didn’t dare move again. When she did, she did so slowly, looking down the hallway. There was no sign of Lucifer, but he couldn’t have given her a clearer sign. Silently, she picked up her tools and backed away from the door. “Sorry,” she whispered and retreated to her room.

Only when her stomach wouldn’t shut up, Chloe dared to wander about the house again. The kitchen was chilly, a previously closed window standing open which Chloe shut immediately, before she began preparing dinner. When her casserole was baking in the oven, Chloe sat down on the window seat underneath the kitchen window and watched the sun sink below the trees beyond the yard. She couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was out here in the suburbs. No traffic. No nearby neighbors. No frequent sound or sirens. Additionally, she was used to having Trixie around in the evenings, so the silence of the big house felt all-encompassing.

The sun had just dipped below the tree line entirely, when the timer for the oven went off. Chloe stretched her neck, stiff from looking out the window, and got up.

She barely avoided walking straight through Lucifer, who stood right behind her. Hastily, she took a step backwards. “Lucifer. You’re here.”

His jaw was set in steel, a muscle on his temple jumping as he gritted his teeth, eyes pitch-black in the semi-darkness of the kitchen. He didn’t say a word.

“Look, I’m sorry I tried to pick the lock. I didn’t know you’d be upset …”

“You don’t go anywhere near that room.”

Chloe slowly raised both hands in surrender. “Okay. All right. I won’t. I will never try to get in again, I promise.”

He relaxed infinitesimally and after a moment he stepped aside, motioning towards the oven. “You should take that out before it burns.”

Chloe did, plating the casserole, briefly considering offering Lucifer a serving but quickly thinking better of it. Sitting down at the table, where Lucifer already lounged on a chair, Chloe dug in. He watched her with his head tilted to the side, as if considering all of her.

“What is that?”

Chloe swallowed her bite and raised an eyebrow. “This? It’s a sweet potato casserole.”

“Sweet potato,” he repeated, thoughtfully.

“Have you never had one?”

He shook his head no. “I have little culinary experience. And you humans come up with new delicacies all the time. How is a Devil supposed to keep up? Anyways, I have other areas of expertise.”

“Like which ones?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve studied the human art of procreation extensively.”

Chloe groaned and rolled her eyes. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Why so shy about it, Detective?”

“I’m not shy. But I’d rather not hear about your adventures in the bedroom. Who knows what kind of weird stuff you get up to.”

“Oh, darling, if you want to find out, just say the word.”

“Hard pass. Besides, you’re dead.”

“Am not,” he said exasperatedly but relented. His eyes flickered towards the fireplace, then back to her. “Will you … will you perhaps light the fire now?”

Chloe smirked. “I can even do you one better. Take a look.” She reached for the bag of vinyls and heaved the stack onto the dining table, then began spreading them out. Lucifer’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. He was at her side immediately, the fire momentarily forgotten as he studied the assortment of music.

“You brought all of these for me?”

“Of course. I said I would.”

He hummed. “Not everyone keeps their word like you do.”

Chloe reached out, planning to touch his shoulder in reassurance, but she stopped herself at the last moment. She remembered the sensation of ice water on her skin, shivering. Hastily, she composed herself. “You know what? You pick one that you want to listen to, and I’ll go get the fire going. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful, Detective.”

“What is it with that? You calling me Detective?”

Lucifer shrugged. “I like it. It feels right,” he mused.

Chloe gave him a fond smile in return.

Soon after, the fire was roaring. It was a mild evening, so technically a fire really wasn’t necessary. But every time Chloe thought about Lucifer’s expression when he’d told her that he was always cold, her protective instincts sprung to life. Why or how she was protective of Lucifer, a _ghost_ , after two days, she didn’t dare think about too much.

“Have you picked one?” she asked him, stepping up to him. He stood before the table, the albums spread out before him but his eyes were glued to one in particular. Chloe spied the title over his shoulder. “I’ve never heard that one. But I’ve heard of Delilah and I thought I’d give it a try. You want to give it a go, then?”

He unfroze instantly, shaking his head with emphasis. “No.” It sounded harsh, but he turned and smiled at her. “Actually, I’ve already had my eye on this.” Lucifer pointed at _The Bangles_ and Chloe’s eyebrows rose involuntarily.

“Wasn’t that after your time? I hadn’t pegged you for someone who listened to the New Wave stuff.”

“I’m going to ignore the obvious innuendo here for your sake, Detective, and instead ask why you brought the record, then, if it doesn’t seem like my kind of music?”

Chloe shrugged. “I thought I could help you broaden your horizons.”

“Oh, will you let me broaden yours?”

She blinked and then laughed wholeheartedly. If someone had told her last week that not only would she meet a ghost, but that said ghost would constantly try to come on to her, Chloe would never have believed it. “Lucifer, you’re unbelievable.”

“So they tell me.”

“Do you want your music or not?”

“I definitely do. Lead the way, Detective.”

He watched her like a hawk as she switched _Manfred Mann’s Earth Band_ for _The Bangles_ , frowning a little when she didn’t play it from start to finish but rather placed the needle at the start of _Eternal Flame_.

“You like this one, then?” he asked as the song started playing.

Chloe made a non-distinct gesture. “Yeah. I guess. I had it as my ring tone once.”

“Ring tone? What’s that?”

“My ring tone,” Chloe repeated, slightly stumped. “You know, like a phone ring tone.”

“A telephone ring tone?” He frowned. “And what? It plays the song when someone calls? Now, that’s ingenious.”

“It’s—” Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle, when she realized what was happening. “You haven’t seen a smartphone before, have you?”

“A smart phone? What, can it talk?”

Chloe grinned. “Among other things.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and, ignoring all the unread messages and missed calls, showed it to Lucifer.

He leaned down, inspecting it like someone would inspect an alien growth. “That’s a phone? It looks nothing like one. There are no buttons to dial anything. And it’s not—there’s no wire.”

“It’s wireless. And you can make it show you the buttons to dial. But nowadays you do a lot more than call people with your phone.”

“Like?”

“Listen to music, send messages to people, look things up online, play games—I could go on. You can manage your bank account and use it as an alarm or a timer. Or as a calendar. It has a camera as well. Honestly, it has so many functions, I barely use half of them.” Tapping the camera icon, Chloe lifted the phone and took two quick pictures—she then realized she didn’t need to be quick about it for Lucifer didn’t have the instinct to shy away from a camera phone like most others. Lucifer only watched her incredulously as she then opened the camera roll and went to look for the snapshot. “Oh man, it doesn’t work.”

“What doesn’t?”

“You don’t really show up on the picture.” It was true. Where Lucifer should have been, the picture was blurry, the colors a little off, only showing the couch but not the man standing in front of it.

Lucifer seemed unbothered. He just eyed her phone distrustfully as she swiped over the screen, showing him the images. “A few centuries ago, that thing would have gotten you burned for witchcraft.”

“And you would have been exorcised.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’ve got a point.”

Chloe huffed out a laugh, then her phone vibrated with a new message. Immediately dread started filling her again and she put down the phone. Just like that her good mood had all but evaporated. She glanced up at Lucifer who had definitely noticed her sudden anxiety, shrugged half-heartedly and gestured vaguely into the direction of the hall. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick, yeah? Just—give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

And with that she fled and locked herself into the guest bathroom. Sinking down on the closed toilet lid, she buried her face in her hands. What was she supposed to do? If she lost her job, that was it. Her future ruined. Trixie’s future ruined. All of it just because she couldn’t turn a blind eye on Malcolm.

A quiet sob escaped her. It was all her own fault. She’d fucked it all up.

“You seem upset.”

“Oh my god!” Chloe exclaimed and jumped up from the toilet. “Lucifer!”

“What?” He was leaning against the closed door, his expression as innocent as it could possibly get.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the bathroom! Get out!”

“No,” he said emphatically and raised a finger. “You said to not go near the bathroom while you’re showering. Which, at the moment, you are not, so this is not breaking any rules.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “It was implied that you stay out of the bathroom _at all times_ while I’m inside.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Suppose I didn’t catch that.”

“You are _unbelievable,_ ” she huffed. “And I said get out.”

“You did. And I ignored it. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You stormed out in the middle of our conversation—”

“I didn’t _storm out_.”

“—to go to the bathroom and then you sit in here fighting back tears. Unacceptable.”

“Why do you care?”

He took a breath but didn’t speak. Instead, his forehead creased in a frown and his casual posture tensed a bit. “I guess … I just didn’t like to see you so upset.”

“Well, that’s—that’s very kind of you, Lucifer, but I just had a rough day at the precinct. I got into some trouble with my co-workers over a case.”

He nodded slowly. “And they are the ones who upset you?”

“Yes. Well, no. It’s not just them. It’s everything. The case and—and Malcolm. Look,” she rubbed her eyes with her thumb and pointer finger, “the gist of it is, a fellow detective died today, and the others are trying to put the blame on me. That’s all you need to know.”

“All right,” Lucifer said quietly. Then he flickered and vanished.

Chloe let out a long breath. For a moment, she considered stopping him, calling out to him. Her abrasiveness had been a bit rude. After all, he’d seemed genuinely concerned and she felt a tiny pang of regret at how she’d brushed him off, but she quickly buried it.

What was she doing? Playing house with a ghost while her life was falling apart outside her little bubble? She should know better. Finding a new apartment and dealing with Palmetto had priority. As did providing for Trixie. So, that’s what she needed to do first and foremost. Worrying about Lucifer’s feelings was decidedly not of importance right now.

Her hands a little shaky, Chloe unlocked the bathroom door and trudged back into the living room. The record player had stopped spinning, the needle returned to the side. Lucifer was nowhere in sight. Chloe sat back down on the rug before the fireplace, poking at the logs until they burned a little brighter, and finally reached for her phone to at least call Dan and face the music.

When she unlocked it and scrolled through her messages, the first one she saw was from her lieutenant, Olivia Monroe. It simply said _It would be for the best, if you don’t come in tomorrow. Call in the morning._ Chloe’s first thought was that she’d been sacked for leaving and then not responding to anyone all day. Her heart sank but when she opened Dan’s messages, all she could do was stare at it open-mouthed.

_Malcolm woke up. He’s alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels a bit short. Sorry.


	5. Ghost Roomie

Chloe heeded the advice and didn’t go into work the next morning.

She sat at the kitchen table, her foot tapping restlessly as she stared at the black screen of her phone. Dan had promised to call. Had promised to explain what was going on. But so far all he’d done was send a quick text that he had to get to the precinct first. Apparently, everyone was going crazy. She was glad she didn’t have to deal with that.

Finally, her phone rang.

“Dan?”

“Hey, Chloe. How are you doing?”

Chloe made an impatient sound. “What does it matter? I want to know what’s going on!”

He huffed a sigh. Chloe could hear the screeching sound of the old photocopier in the background. He must be in the break room. “It’s messed up, Chlo. As far as I know Malcolm’s wife pulled the plug last night and they thought that was it.” His voice had dropped to a near-whisper. “And then he just woke up. Like, suddenly there was a heartbeat again and he started breathing on his own. It was—it was like a miracle.”

“Holy shit,” Chloe breathed. “And what now? Monroe told me to stay away.”

“Yeah, she told me. She thinks that everyone is going to hound you even more now that Malcolm is awake. They’re on his side, as always.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “He’s going to deny everything. And he’ll do his best to keep me from investigating any further.”

“And that’s why I think you should stop, Chlo. Stop investigating him. Just let it go.”

Chloe breathed out slowly. After everything that had happened with Palmetto, she really should just let it go. She should turn her back and fall in line and make sure she wouldn’t lose her job. But how could she do that? She’d sworn to herself once that she would never be on the wrong side of the law. Turning a blind eye—two blind eyes in this case—would be just as bad as becoming corrupt herself.

“I can’t, Dan.”

“Chloe …”

“I can’t! I know I’m right. I know what I saw and I will not let Malcolm get away with it.”

Dan hummed. “Well, you know where I stand on this. The lieutenant wants you to stay home today and Friday and I agree that it would probably be best for everyone. Can you still pick Trixie up for the weekend? I have a stakeout that I can’t postpone.”

“Yeah, Dan,” Chloe grumbled. “I’ll manage. Tell Monroe to let me know when to come back in.” She hung up before Dan could say another word and dropped her phone onto the table with a clatter. His dismissive attitude was frustrating and she’d heard enough of it to last her a lifetime.

“Sorry, Lucifer,” she mumbled. “Looks like I’ll be here all day. Hope you don’t mind.” She didn’t expect an answer. It really seemed that the resident ghost only came out at night. She had no idea why. Maybe he’d tell her eventually. For now, it seemed she’d spend some time at home. It promised to be a long day with no one around to distract her.

In the end, she spent most of the day cleaning the rooms upstairs. She found some books hidden away in the back of the small walk-in closet in her bedroom and a few titles caught her eye. As the afternoon turned to evening, she sat on the couch with a pot of coffee and a box of cookies, lost between the pages of a cheesy romance novel.

“Why on Earth would you read that?”

Lucifer’s voice made her jump and she almost toppled off the couch. “You need to announce yourself somehow, Lucifer. You scared me.” He just scoffed and suddenly he was sitting next to her. She sat up a little from her half-lying position and held up the book. “Found it upstairs and the blurb sounded interesting. Turns out, I was cheated into reading it because it is way more cliché than it looks. But still, I like the premise.”

“Happy endings and June weddings? That’s what you like to read?”

“Call it compensation. I’ve got enough shit to deal with in real life. June weddings kind of make up for that.” She shrugged. “But that reminds me, I really should get back to doing some real-life stuff. Like cooking dinner. And house hunting.” Stretching languidly, she yawned. “What about you? Do you want a fire first?”

Lucifer regarded her for a moment, his head tilted to the side. Then he nodded. “That would be nice.”

So, Chloe got the fire going, and went to fix herself dinner. She returned with her tablet and a plate of food, only to find Lucifer squinting at the book she’d left on the couch table. Her bookmark was covering half the words on the page and Lucifer glared at it as if it had personally offended him.

“Oh, so now you want to read it?” Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I have to know what’s got you so compelled to read this—this nonsense.” He gestured wildly at the book. “You’ll have to start from the beginning.”

“What? I’m not going to start over just so you can read over my shoulder. That’s almost a hundred pages.”

“But I don’t know what happened on those hundred pages, now do I? Ergo, you need to go back to page one.”

“Uh-uh. No way, Lucifer. Get your own book.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that? I can’t even turn a page without knocking the book to the ground.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and dropped onto the couch. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about what I was saying.”

Lucifer grumbled and sat next to her, mirroring her all the way to the crossed arms. “You won’t start over?”

“No.”

“And you won’t keep reading now?” he asked with a glance at her tablet.

“No, I’m going to look for apartments.”

“Will you at least turn the pages?”

“Seriously?” She turned to face him. “You want me to turn the page every thirty seconds?”

He met her eyes challengingly. “I’ll make you a deal for it.”

“Oh, and what are you offering in return?”

“I’m offering,” he cooed, “to not play piano tonight.”

Chloe snorted. “I’m not really getting anything out of that deal, am I?”

“You’re getting a full night’s sleep.”

“You’re unbelievable, have I told you that?”

His grin was the most winning she’d ever seen. “I take it you’re in?”

She spent the next hour scrolling through apartment adverts while turning the pages of the book next to her on the couch. Lucifer was sitting on the floor, his arms crossed on the couch and devouring every single word of the novel. From page one to hundred-and-forty. He was a quick reader. At first, he’d started saying “next” whenever he’d reached the end of the page, but Chloe had quickly grown irritated by it. In the end he resorted to clicking his tongue once for Chloe to turn the page. It was only mildly less annoying, but Chloe indulged him. It was oddly adorable to watch him read with his tongue between his lips whenever the plot thickened.

“Any luck?” he asked, when she put down her tablet.

“No, not really. But I’m waiting on a few guys to get back to me. Then we’ll see.”

He glanced at the tablet that still showed the real estate listings. “Oh, that one looks promising.” He pointed at the top entry.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “That advert was paid for. It’s always at the top and not actually in my price range. It’s not even meant to be rented, you’d have to buy it.”

“I like the look of it. Is it some kind of club?”

Chloe shrugged and tapped on the advert. The pictures showed the inside of some sort of fight club, a ring surrounded by wire mesh in the middle. “It’s a boxing club of some sort. Or maybe wrestling? And anyway, I’m looking for an apartment, not a club.” She tilted her head to the side and looked at the stats and price. “And the cost is up in the stratosphere.”

Lucifer frowned a little. “They expect a lot of money for a place with such abhorrent decor. It needs something with a little more flair. A piano perhaps.”

“You would think so.” Chloe closed the tab and turned off the tablet. “Maybe, if I win the lottery these next few days, I’ll buy the place.”

He looked up at her, hesitation in his gaze. “I know I said, I didn’t want you here. And I wasn’t the most welcoming. But you don’t have to worry that I’ll throw you out. We made a deal after all.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” she said sincerely. “I appreciate it. But I won’t disturb you any longer than strictly necessary.”

“Well, you’ve cleaned the place more thoroughly than anyone in the last thirty years, so it’s not all that bad to have you around.”

“Oh, so I’m your maid now?”

“More like a roommate,” he grinned.

“Oh, great. A ghost roomie,” Chloe laughed. “Well, as long as your rotting corpse isn’t hidden behind the panelling in the hallway, I guess I can live with having a friendly ghost as a roommate.”

“There are much more disturbing things in the crawlspaces than dead bodies, Detective.”

“Thanks. Didn’t need to know that. Also, crawlspaces?”

He smirked. “Loads of hiding spaces in this house. Some of them you’ll never find.”

“But you’ve found them all?”

“There have to be some benefits to being able to walk through walls. Besides, I had thirty years and not a single entertaining pastime.” His sigh was long-suffering. “Speaking of, have you ever thought about getting a pet? A cat perhaps?”

Chloe frowned at him. “Thought about it maybe once or twice but not recently, no.” Seeing his disappointed expression she added, “Why?”

“Well, I suppose the more important question is ‘have you thought about getting me a pet?’”

“You? Why would I?”

“Like I said, I get bored.”

Chloe huffed. “And that is my problem because ...?”

“Because you sleep all night. You don’t exactly keep me company. What do you expect me to do all night?”

“You make it sound like its entirely my fault that you’re stuck here.”

“No, that’s my Father’s doing. But the point still stands. I’ll bore to death.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“So, no pet?”

“No, Lucifer. What would you even do with a pet? Just watch it?”

Lucifer pouted. “I’m sure cats are easily frightened. It would be a laugh.”

“So, what you’re saying is you want a pet just so you can terrorize it.”

“I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

He sneered. “No, you interpreted it from what I actually said.”

“Hm, right. But you knew I would. You’re good at letting people draw their wrong conclusions.”

Lucifer hummed. “Yes. It’s a talent.”

“Why do you do it?” Chloe asked, not accusing but genuinely curious.

“Because I swore I’d never lie. And to this day I haven’t. However, the truth doesn’t always get you what you want.” He smirked. “Hence, loopholes.” He presented it like the most ingenious plan ever to be conceived. It was oddly endearing but his next question immediately made her scratch that thought. “What about a shark?”

“A pet shark?”

“I’ve always wanted one.”

“I hate to break it to you but no, not a pet shark, either. Because that’s illegal.”

“You humans and your silly laws.”

“Just awful,” Chloe agreed sarcastically and heaved herself off the couch. “I’m going to get some nachos. I’m guessing you don’t want anything.”

When she returned with a bowl of nachos and some dip, Lucifer was lying on the rug in front of the fireplace, so close that Chloe would have thought it had to be unbearably hot, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. As she got comfy on the couch, she observed him. Every once in a while, he’d reach out towards the fire. The first time Chloe saw him do that, she shouted for him to stop, but he just laughed, letting his hand be engulfed by flames. They couldn’t touch him, couldn’t burn him, and he soaked up their heat with a content smile on his lips.

As the silence between them dragged on, Chloe decided to try her luck and get some answers to the myriad of questions she still had. “All right, so, let me get this straight,” Chloe held up the nacho she was currently nibbling on, pointing it at Lucifer. “You can’t leave the house?”

“I can’t leave the yard,” Lucifer corrected her. “If I go past the gate or beyond the trees, I don’t get very far.”

“What happens?”

“I just … I get yanked back here. It’s not pleasant.”

“Why this house? Did you die here?”

“Still not dead, Detective. I didn’t die.”

“Did you live here, then?”

“No. This house belonged to a friend of mine.”

Chloe hummed and ate her nacho. “What else?”

“What do you mean ‘what else’?” He raised his head to look at her.

“I mean, what are your limits? How come sometimes you can touch things and other times you can’t? You can’t touch me, right?”

“Why, Detective, would you like me to touch you somewhere specifically?”

Chloe threw a pillow at him, which of course went straight through his face. He sputtered indignantly and flickered and disappeared. A moment later he was sitting right next to her on the couch and he plunged his hand right through her thigh in retaliation. Chloe yelped and scooted out of reach. “Shit, that’s cold, Lucifer! Stop it,” she laughed, when he reached for her foot. “Please, stop.”

“That’s what you get for throwing things at me.”

“You mean through you.”

“Exactly. I despise going through objects.”

Chloe tried to hide her smile. “Sorry. You’re just so easy to tease.”

“Pot kettle, don’t you think?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Lucifer sighed and let his head fall down on the back of the couch. “Touch is difficult. The first few years of this nightmare I couldn’t touch anything at all. Then I figured out I had to expend a lot of energy, for lack of a better word, to interact with anything. When I get angry, it’s easiest.”

“What about the sounds?”

He grinned. “You mean the footsteps?”

“And the creepy child’s laughter. And the piano.”

“Well, the former is just an illusion. There is no creepy little human spawn running around here, nor can I make sound while walking. I just made you believe you were hearing these things. The piano is another matter.”

“Hold on,” Chloe stopped him. “You can make me hear things?”

“And see things. I didn’t draw on the window, either. Like I said, touch is difficult and I can’t manage the precision it would take to write. If at all, I can push objects.”

Chloe gaped at him. “Holy shit! So, none of it was real? You weren’t chasing me, you just made me think someone was. That’s messed up.”

“Well, I do try,” he grinned.

“What about the book and my gun?”

“That took me all night,” Lucifer groaned. “Especially opening the right page.”

Chloe tried to process all this. In a way, it made Lucifer seem even less dangerous. He could barely interact with anything at all and everything that had scared her hadn’t been real. “Can you make me see anything you want?”

“Technically, yes. At least I think so. I haven’t had much reason to test it. And like I said, it takes a lot of concentration and energy. Sometimes, if I spend an entire night moving objects around, I can’t even manage being visible the following night.”

“Staying visible takes you effort?”

“Yes.”

“Lucifer!”

“What?”

Chloe sat up straight. “You know you don’t have to spend all evening with me like this, if it’s—”

“Detective, please.” He held up a calming hand. “I want to be here. I want to talk to you.”

Chloe slowly sank back into the cushions. “Okay. All right. What about during the day? Where do you go?”

He seemed to think about that for a moment, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. “I’m not gone exactly. But I’m not really here, either. I don’t sit around invisibly all day, it’s more like …” He grimaced, his own thoughts making him shudder. “I refuse to be compared to Him, but I spend the day in a sort of omnipresent state. I’m aware of the house and its occupants in a way. I know what’s happening. But I’m not in any humanly conceivable shape.”

“So, you just disappear and you can’t choose to stay?” He shook his head in response. “That must be scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yes. To go even if you don’t want to.”

He tilted his head to the side in thought. “I suppose so. In the beginning it was. Now, in a way, it helps me escape.”

“I think I get that. Still, it would scare me more than not being able to touch things,” she mused. “What do you miss most?” The question hadn’t been thought through on her part and she immediately regretted just blurting it out like that. “Sorry, that was tactless.”

“No matter, Detective. I know you meant no harm by asking.” He turned the ring on his finger, thinking. “I suppose there are a lot of things that I miss. I love Earth, you must know. I love all its pleasures. I enjoy any form of indulgence. Most people would think less of me for it but they would take pleasure in it, too, if they ever saw the place I used to call home. I miss …” He sighed and started over. “I miss music, but you already helped a great lot by letting me enjoy some variance. And I’ve got my piano. I missed playing a lot.”

“How do you play?” Chloe wondered. “How do you touch it? Is it an actual piano or another illusion?”

Lucifer laughed quietly. “No, there is a baby grand in the upstairs room. And being able to play it again took me the better part of two decades.” He splayed his fingers on his thighs, tapping out an unheard melody. “I suppose … I wanted it bad enough. To be able to touch the keys and hear them sing for me. I tried again and again and I never gave up, until one day I managed to press a key. It took so much concentration in the beginning. My usual sure-fire way of touching things—hitting them, when I was furious—well, that was no way to treat an instrument,” he explained. “Now I can touch the keys with only very little effort.” Their eyes met. “Until now I thought it would be the only thing keeping me from going mad in this house.”

“What changed?”

His expression was unreadable and for a moment he didn’t say a word. Then he smiled hesitantly. “Will you come upstairs?”

“Upstairs?”

“My room.” Suddenly he seemed very excited. “Meet me there.” And he disappeared.

Chloe sat there, stunned, for a few moments. Warmth spread in her chest when she realized what he was offering. He was going to let her into his room. A room that he had locked her out from until now. That had to be a huge thing for him. Lucifer was letting her in and not only into his room. He trusted her enough to show her a part of himself that, until now, he’d deemed private.

When she reached the end of the upstairs hallway, the door stood open.

With one hand on the frame, Chloe stood there, taking in the room. Lucifer sat on the bench of the piano, the centrepiece. His back was to her as he played, his fingers dancing across the keys in a mesmerizing sequence. The room itself was smaller than Chloe would have thought and, save for a dusty sheet on the floor next to the piano and a window seat in the round corner of the room, it was empty.

The only thing that set this room apart from the others was the halfway renovated state it was in. Two walls were scraped free of wallpaper while the other two remained untouched. The lightbulb hung bare from the ceiling. On the window seat lay a scraper. If Chloe hadn’t known better, she’d have guessed that whoever was renovating this room had just stepped outside for a moment and would be back any second.

A quiet “oh” escaped Chloe, too quiet to be heard over the sound of the piano. That friend of Lucifer’s who’d lived here had somehow never come back to finish the job. Something must have happened. That much was all too clear.

Almost reverently, she stepped into the room and took a seat on his right. He adjusted the melody, changing the key, so that he wouldn’t touch her while reaching for any high notes. Still Chloe saw his smile. It was radiant. She’d never seen him happier. Neither the fireplace nor the records had ever made him light up like this. He closed his eyes in peaceful bliss, showing off his skill for he had no need to watch his fingers as he played.

He must have felt her gaze because he opened his eyes and the melody seamlessly changed into an all too familiar tune.

“ _Never a frown, never a frown with golden brown._ ”

Chloe shook her head fondly. “You were listening to me sing. While I cleaned. Even during the day? You heard that?”

“Your musical talent leaves some to be desired. It took me a while to piece together what you were humming in the first place.”

“It was my father’s favorite song.”

“Shall I play something else?”

“Whatever you desire.”

Lucifer huffed out a laugh. “You have no idea of the irony.” But he changed the tune once more, something unfamiliar this time.

Chloe listened and watched him play. In this moment he seemed just like any other guy. Alive. Human. She didn’t know what made her do it—or maybe she did—but she reached out to place her fingers on his arm.

An icy cold met her skin and Lucifer stopped playing. Her fingers had gone straight through.

Neither of them had expected any different but the silence that hung between them was heavy. Her fingers still hovered in the air, right below his arm, trembling. She couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing that she’d upset him with her thoughtless action. He placed his fingers on the keys again but didn’t press any.

“I never answered your question about what I miss most.”

Swallowing back her apprehension, Chloe looked up and into his eyes. “What do you miss most, Lucifer?”

“I would give anything,” he whispered, “to feel your fingers upon my skin.”

She forced back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, but her eyes felt watery, still. “As do I. I wish you could feel it. I wish _I_ could feel _you_.”


	6. Someone's Playing Piano

Trixie was already bouncing up and down on the curb when Chloe pulled into the pick-up lane at her school the next day, both arms tightly wrapped around her soccer ball. The car had barely come to a full stop when Trixie already pulled open the rear door.

“Hi, Mommy!”

“Hi, Monkey. I’ve missed you all week. Come here.” She leaned into the backseat, embracing her daughter in a one-armed hug and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “How was school today?”

“It was over really quick. Did you know that gravity on Jupiter is greater than here on Earth? It means you’d weigh tons more.”

Chloe’s eyebrows rose. “That much? How is Daddy supposed to carry you around, then?”

“He’ll just have to go work out more.”

“Be sure to tell him that,” Chloe laughed.

“Why do you have the TV in the back?”

Chloe had gone by the storage unit she’d rented while they were between houses and had rummaged through boxes and boxes of stuff until she’d found the DVDs and some of Trixie’s books. In retrospect she really regretted not labeling the boxes any better, but it had all been a little last minute. Then she’d heaved the TV into the trunk of her cruiser with the help of a random passer-by, who’d seen her struggle and had quickly intervened.

“I didn’t want you to get bored. If it rains all weekend, I thought we could watch some movies. And I brought all of your favorite books. The house doesn’t have a satellite or Internet, so we have to entertain ourselves the old-fashioned way.”

“Do we have Monopoly?”

“You know, I don’t think so. But if you really want to play it, we can go get it tomorrow.”

“That’s okay.”

“All right, buckle up. We’re going to get food from your favorite pizza place and then drive out to _Dire Oaks_.”

“It’s so cool that it’s got a name.” Trixie’s excitement was almost palpable in the air and it was contagious. Trixie played music from her phone all the way from the pizza place to the suburbs, while Chloe wracked her brain on the slightly pressing issue of how to address Lucifer’s presence. She hadn’t mentioned Trixie to Lucifer, either. Judging by his lack of enthusiasm when Chloe had moved in, he be wouldn’t exactly thrilled to have another tenant. Even if it was only for the weekend.

She didn’t speak up about it throughout the entire drive. When the sedan came to a stop in front of the gate, Trixie’s wide eyes already eying the house, Chloe gathered her thoughts into some semblance of order and broached the subject. “Hey, Monkey, can you hold up a second?” Trixie halted with her hand on the door already, when Chloe turned towards her. “I’ve got to talk to you about something before we go inside.”

“Yeah?”

“All right, so, you remember last Halloween when I let you watch Beetlejuice, even though it’s not really meant for kids?”

“Uh huh, it wasn’t even that scary. I thought the ghosts were funny,” Trixie grinned. “Why?”

“Well, you see, when I moved in here, I met a ghost.”

Trixie’s eyes grew round as saucers. “There’s a ghost in the house?”

“Yes. But he isn’t scary and he doesn’t want to hurt us. He just lives there.”

Trixie’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you joking? Because Daddy always says there’s no such thing. You even said so before.”

“That’s because back then I thought it was true. But now I know better because I’ve seen one with my own two eyes.”

“So, there’s a real ghost? Is he invisible? Can I go meet him?”

“You will meet him. Maybe not right away because he generally only comes out when it gets dark outside.”

“So, did he die in the house?”

Chloe bit her lip. “You know, Monkey, I’m not sure. I don’t think he wants to talk about it, so maybe it’s best if you don’t ask him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie agreed, bouncing up and down in her seat a little. Chloe knew she couldn’t contain her for much longer, so she nodded for her to go ahead and Trixie basically flew from the car, leaving her school bag behind. She bounced her soccer ball all the way up the gravel path, then skipped up the steps to the porch. Chloe followed at a much slower pace, carrying Trixie’s things as well as the bag of DVDs and books and the box of pizza.

“It’s super pretty. It’s like the house from _Lady and the Tramp_. Look, it’s even got a little tower.”

The ‘tower’ was the round corner of Lucifer’s room upstairs, the roof tapering to a point at the top. It was pretty, Chloe agreed. She had no idea why she’d been such a sceptic when she’d first seen the house. Silently, she contemplated whether there was a reason she’d started liking the house, quickly deciding that yes, there was one. And it was oddly Lucifer-shaped.

Trixie left her soccer ball on the Hollywood swing on the porch and followed Chloe inside. Her pace slowed a little, taking in the hall. “Is he here? The ghost?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, he won’t come out until it’s dark. But you could try calling him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lucifer.”

“Like the Devil?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Trixie accepted that with a shrug, then called out, “Lucifer? Hello?”

There was no answer. Chloe hadn’t really expected anything else. “He’ll be around later, Monkey. How about we eat the pizza before it gets cold?”

“Cold pizza is amazing, though,” Trixie said with a grin.

“Maybe we can have cold pizza in the morning, then, if you want to forego your cereal.”

“Never,” came the immediate protest.

They sat at the dining table, the carton of pizza between them, and dug in as Trixie recounted everything Chloe had missed during the week. She was glad to hear that Dan hadn’t forgotten to pick her up even once. Still, she couldn’t wait for the day that she’d get to move back in with Trixie.

“What’s he like?” her daughter asked eventually, and Chloe knew she meant the resident ghost.

Chloe hummed, swallowing her bite of pizza. “He’s charming in his own way. Though if I’d met him in the street, he would have probably annoyed me.” With his constant attempts at flirting with her, she would have definitely given him a wide berth.

“You smile a lot when you talk about him, though.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said defensively. “He’s nice enough. I like talking to him. And I think he’s a little lonely.”

“But we’re here now. He’ll be less lonely with us around.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Where is he, then?” Trixie asked, her gaze wandering around the room once more as if she’d be able to spot him, if only she tried hard enough. “It’s dark out now, so why isn’t he here?”

“I don’t know. Give him some time.”

But Lucifer didn’t show. Not even when Chloe lit a fire in the fireplace and put on some music as Trixie helped her set up the TV. She’d been almost sure she’d be able to lure him out that way, but he stayed stubbornly absent. Not even a cold spot or that uncanny feeling of being watched indicated his presence.

In the end, she brought a disappointed Trixie to bed. She’d prepared the second bedroom for her daughter, the one facing the front yard. She was delighted to be sleeping in such a big bed and had soon forgotten about her misery of not getting to meet Lucifer.

Closing the door to her daughter’s room, she glanced at the door across the hall. It was closed and probably locked as always. Hesitantly, Chloe approached it and knocked as quietly as she could.

“Lucifer? Are you here?”

Everything stayed quiet. She hadn’t really expected him to show himself now after staying absent all evening, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

“I hope everything’s all right. I—” She cut herself off, then sighed, “Goodnight, Lucifer.”

* * *

“Mommy?”

Chloe woke abruptly at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Blinking rapidly, she sat up. “Trixie, babe, what is it?”

“Someone’s playing piano.”

Sure enough, the piano could be heard from the adjacent room, the melody slow, rising and falling like the tide.

“That would be Lucifer,” Chloe sighed. “Come here, Trix.” She spread her arms for her daughter to come cuddle up to her. “You don’t have to be scared. He just likes to play when he’s bored. And if you hear any other noises you don’t have to be scared, either.”

“Why didn’t he come earlier, if he was here all this time?”

“Maybe he was a little shy about meeting you.”

Trixie hummed and wrapped her arms tighter around Chloe’s waist. “Can I sleep here with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone in the other room.”

“Of course, you can. Do you want me to ask him to stop?” Internally she cringed. She’d pretty much promised him not to complain about his nightly piano playing. Bringing Trixie here unannounced and then asking him to stop playing was asking for trouble.

“No, it’s okay. If he’s bored, let him play. I can still sleep, I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“All right, then. Under the blankets with you.”

Chloe rested her head on the pillow again. She listened to the haunting melody from the room next door, eyes falling closed once more. The notes stole their way into her dreams. When she sat next to him on the bench this time, he was warm, his smile radiant.

The dream rapidly faded from her mind as she woke the next morning. Watching her sleeping daughter next to her as the first rays of the sun rose above the trees and filled the room with a golden light, she wondered whether Lucifer would play for her again.

Untangling herself from the blankets while trying not to jostle Trixie proved difficult but she was mostly successful. Trixie mumbled a little but didn’t wake up. As quietly as it was possible with the creaking door, she made her way downstairs, wanting to surprise Trixie with a more opulent breakfast than usual. She started frying the bacon while the coffee machine chattered in the background. It was the most peaceful Saturday morning she’d had in a long while. Humming to herself, Chloe pulled Trixie’s cereal out of the cupboard, turning around to place it on the table and almost dropped it, when she saw she wasn’t alone.

“Lucifer!” He was standing behind her, his expression bordering on bewildered. His mouth opened once, twice, but he didn’t get a word out. Quickly, Chloe glanced outside and, yes, the sun was definitely up. “How are you here?”

“I don’t understand. I—”

“Whoa!” Trixie stood in the archway, her eyes full of wonder as she took in Lucifer’s person. Lucifer, for his part, seemed panicked at her presence, his eyes wide. Chloe blinked and he was gone, accompanied by a shriek from Trixie. “He disappeared! Mommy, he just—”

“I know, Trix. It’s okay. He does that.”

“He really is a ghost,” Trixie gasped, awe still coloring her voice. “Where did he go? Is he still here? Invisible?”

Chloe hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know but I don’t think he’s here anymore.” She raised her voice a little and called out, “Lucifer?” No answer. “Look, I don’t know, if you can come back right now but just—let’s talk tonight, okay?”

“Can he hear us?”

“Hopefully.”

Trixie happily addressed the air. “Hi, Lucifer. My name’s Beatrice. But everybody calls me Trixie.” She didn’t get an answer, either, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Not now that she’d actually glimpsed him.

“Come sit down and have some breakfast, okay?”

“But, Mom, what if he comes back?”

“You won’t miss him just because you’re having breakfast.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Can we play outside later?”

“Well, it’s raining a little …” At the sight of her daughter’s disappointed expression she quickly added, “But that won’t stop us, will it?”

Trixie laughed. “No, it won’t.”

“Never. You didn’t bring your soccer ball for nothing.”

After breakfast, Chloe made Trixie put on an old pair of jeans that Dan had packed for exactly this occasion. They both bundled up in their raincoats, and Chloe put a hat on Trixie before they braved the outside. The wind immediately blew the rain into their faces, but Trixie was delighted. She proceeded to set up a perimeter in the tall grass, placing the biggest stones she could find and carry at the respective ends of her little soccer field to mark the goal posts.

“I’ll go easy on you, Mommy.”

“You better. How will I ever keep up with a little whirlwind like you?”

They ran around the yard chasing the ball for almost two hours. Chloe was breathing heavily in the end, her face wet from the rain and the knees of her jeans dirty from the several times she’d slipped and fallen on the wet ground. Trixie didn’t look much better. Shivering a little in the wind, Chloe longed to curl up on the couch with some hot chocolate later.

“Look, Mom!” Trixie suddenly called out and pointed up towards the windows on the second floor. Chloe followed her line of sight and found Lucifer’s face behind the curtains of her bedroom. Their eyes met, then he glanced over to Trixie and disappeared. “He’s inside. Can we go say hi?”

“Trix, I think he wants to be alone for now. Maybe he’ll come talk to us later. How about we go inside, make ourselves some cocoa with marshmallows and warm up a little. You must be freezing.”

“Okay,” Trixie grinned and skipped towards the back door, Chloe in tow.

After their much-deserved hot chocolate break, Trixie began scouring the house for things to do. “I’m going to find all the secret passageways,” she declared, and Chloe desperately hoped her daughter wouldn’t find any of the crawlspaces Lucifer had mentioned. She had already warned her daughter away from Lucifer’s room and hoped he didn’t mind her snooping around anywhere else. A few minutes later, Trixie returned with a Monopoly game. “Look, Mommy! Can we play this tonight?”

“Sure,” Chloe shrugged. “Does it have all the pieces? And the money?”

Trixie decided to solve that question by upending the entire game on the living room floor. Chloe only told her to take it onto the rug before the fireplace for the floor tended to be a little cold. In the end, Trixie declared one of the game pieces missing but there were enough others to choose from.

The downpour outside had gotten worse.

The heavy raindrops splattered against the windows in the kitchen as Trixie sat and worked on her homework at the dining table. Chloe helped her from time to time as she prepared dinner.

“Is Daddy going to come visit?” Trixie asked out of the blue.

“You know, Monkey, I don’t think so. He’s quite busy lately. But maybe we can have Taco Tuesday at your dad’s place next week.”

“Can’t Daddy come here and see the house. And maybe meet Lucifer, too?”

Chloe froze. That sounded like a bad idea. Dan wouldn’t just accept the whole ghost thing as easily as Trixie had and Lucifer … well, Lucifer wasn’t exactly fond of visitors. “I’ve only just moved in here, Trix, it would be rude to have so many guests, I think. Maybe in a couple weeks.” _If_ she still lived here by then.

“Okay,” Trixie shrugged, a little dejected. “But I still want the tacos.”

Chloe shook her head fondly. “Of course, you do. After all, it’s tradition at this point.”

After homework and dinner Trixie’s eyes kept falling closed before they even had the chance to start a game of Monopoly. Chloe let her doze on the couch as she went to go take a shower. She reached the top of the stairs and her steps slowed when she spotted Lucifer’s silhouette at the end of the hall. He disappeared before she could even say a word, a cold breeze flying past her and whipping her hair around. She pried an errand strand from her mouth, a sigh on her lips, and closed the door to the bathroom behind her.

After her shower, she ran a bath for Trixie and helped her wash her hair. She was old enough to do it herself, but it felt nice to pretend she wasn’t growing up so quickly. When the water got cold, Chloe wrapped her up in towels and sent her to go change into her pyjamas.

Leaving the bathroom, Chloe walked right through another cold spot. She shivered and kept walking. If he didn’t want to talk or show himself, she wouldn’t push him. But sooner or later he’d have to. He couldn’t ignore her forever. If nothing would give, she’d simply stop lighting the fireplace. He was sure to come crawling back, then. But for now, she would do him the favor, so she ambled down the stairs to do just that. When she reached the ground floor, though, she felt eyes on her back and looked up. Lucifer sat on the top step, his gaze fixed on her but entirely void of his usual exuberance. Tentatively, Chloe raised her hand in a small wave. He stayed still as a statue, then vanished into thin air.

Chloe sighed. Baby steps, then. She went to light the fireplace, anyways.

Trixie came downstairs to say goodnight not much later and Chloe let her stay for another few minutes, both enjoying the crackling of the wood as it was consumed by flame. When Trixie’s eyes fell closed again and again, Chloe ushered her upstairs. All alone, she pulled out her tablet and resumed her long-postponed house hunt. It was endlessly frustrating, but she sent out another two inquiries, one of them resulting in an immediate declining. Throwing her tablet onto the cushions next to her, she buried her face in both hands, just to breathe for a few moments.

“Chloe.”

She flinched but thought she hid it well. Lucifer’s tall shape was illuminated by the orange light from the fireplace, all rigid lines and tense muscle as he stood before her. “Hey.” Eloquent as ever. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” He was shaking. Literally shaking. The cold around him didn’t seem any worse than usual but maybe it was worse for him.

She motioned for him to sit down on the couch and after a moment of hesitation he did. Sitting down was more of a controlled fall for him and Chloe expected him to go through the cushions for a moment, but he didn’t. His eyes were locked on her. As if he had trouble figuring her out.

“What do you mean?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle.

He shook himself out of his reverie and scoffed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t notice, Detective.” Her title almost sounded like an accusation. “I was here _all day_.”

“Yeah, I saw you.”

“All day, Detective. And all night as well! I don’t—I don’t do that. For thirty-two years I only appeared at night, never during the day. And now you show up and bring your spawn along and suddenly I’m here. I’m present. And I can’t control it.”

Chloe ignored him calling her daughter ‘spawn’. For now. “But isn’t that a good thing? You not disappearing?” He seemed to want to argue, to deny it but he bit his tongue. “Don’t you want to be here?”

“If we’re being utopian about it, Detective, then no, I’d rather be anywhere else than this Dad-forsaken house.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m asking if you want to disappear every day, when you could be here instead, talking to me—to us. Or listen to music. Or sit by the fire. Lucifer, maybe this is a good thing. _Change_ is a good thing.”

“Change is never a good thing. Where I come from everything is eternal. Including me. The Devil doesn’t change.”

“And why not?”

“Because any and all change always leads to destruction and despair for me. I tried rebellion once. Didn’t work out for me,” he said, a bitter quality to his voice. “Then I left Hell to seek change and look where that landed me.”

Chloe bit the inside of her cheek to keep her words from spilling. She wasn’t about to yell at him, wasn’t about to insist that he finally accepted his death. No good would come of it. Before she could come up with another way of approach, though, Lucifer stood.

“You shouldn’t have brought your offspring.”

And before Chloe could say another word, he flickered and was gone. “Lucifer! Come on, what the hell? You can’t just run away all the time.”

“Mommy?”

“Oh, Trixie, babe, you should be in bed.”

Trixie stood in the archway to the living room, Miss Alien, her stuffed toy, tugged under one arm. “I heard you talking to Lucifer. Is he back again?”

“He was. But he—he’s a little upset and he’s having trouble talking about it. I think we just need to give him some time.”

“Ask him, if he wants to play Monopoly with us tomorrow. It’ll cheer him up.”

Chloe smiled. “I will, if I see him again. Come on, now, you should sleep. It’s late.”

“Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah, I think I will. You go ahead and I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

When Trixie had disappeared up the stairs, Chloe turned back towards the room. “Lucifer, I don’t know, if you’re here all the time now. Twenty-four seven, I mean. And I know it scares you. But … I’m here for you. I want to help.” The room stayed silent except for the crackling of the dying flames in the fireplace. Sighing, she went to put another log on it. “I hope that will keep you warm for another hour or so. Goodnight, Lucifer.”

* * *

He was sitting in the middle of the dining table again, when both Chloe and Trixie came downstairs Sunday morning, obviously waiting for them. Trixie was immediately wide awake, eyes wide and excited as she got her first good look at the resident ghost.

“Good morning, Lucifer,” Chloe greeted him tentatively, not letting go of Trixie’s hand. She couldn’t gauge his reaction to her daughter’s enthusiasm, especially after he’d told her last night that Trixie shouldn’t be here in the first place. So she played it safe.

Lucifer for his part glowered at her but offered a tense “Good morning, Detective” in return. He flickered wildly for a few moments, then vanished and reappeared on the window seat.

“That is so cool!” Trixie cooed. “Do it again!”

Lucifer gave her an irritated look that was bordering on mild panic. “I most certainly will not.”

Chloe cleared her throat. “Trixie, meet Lucifer. Lucifer, this is my daughter.”

“I’d gathered as much, thank you. Now what is it doing here?”

“It?” Chloe sputtered.

“Your offspring was not included in the deal. It was you who I allowed to stay here. You and only you.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“There is no _but_ , Detective. I told you I don’t take deals lightly.”

Trixie, by this point, was pouting a little but she pried her hand out of Chloe’s grip and approached Lucifer. “My name’s Trixie. It’s nice to meet you, Lucifer.”

Lucifer scurried away from Trixie like she was full of deadly diseases, going so far as to put the dining table between them. “Control your offspring, Detective.”

“Lucifer! Stop it,” Chloe said. “We can talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? I didn’t include anyone else in our deal and, frankly, I draw the line at human spawn.”

“Spawn?” Chloe felt her eye twitch. “Are you serious right now?”

Before Lucifer could retort, Trixie asked, “Can you fly?”

Lucifer eyed her warily, his gaze jumping from her to Chloe and back. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Can I see?” Trixie’s mouth was wide open, her eyes sparkling as if it was Christmas Day. “Oh, please, Lucifer, let me see.”

“Trix, go easy on him, okay?”

“But, Mommy, he can’t send me away. I wanted him to play Monopoly with us.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to, babe.”

“Do you want to, Lucifer?”

He scoffed. “Play a board game? Hard pass.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked away.

Chloe had enough of his theatrics. “What do you want in return for letting Trixie stay on the weekends?”

Incredulous eyes found their way back to her. “Pardon?”

“A deal, Lucifer. You like those, don’t you?”

It seemed like she’d hit bullseye. He squirmed, obviously intrigued. She didn’t quite understand his need for the constant quid pro quo but if that was his way of doing things, she’d gladly play along, if it meant she’d get what she needed out of it. The kitchen lights flickered a little, his agitation growing, until he eventually gave in, appearing right before Chloe.

“A deal it is, then. You will get me a pet.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “No, Lucifer. We talked about this.”

“If I’m bound to be present all throughout the day, I think I’m entitled to one.”

“No, you’re not,” Chloe argued. “No pet, Lucifer.”

“You get to have your spawn,” he wailed.

“My _daughter,_ ” she emphasized. “She’s not a pet.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he spat, then paused, thinking of a new condition. “Candles.”

“Go on?”

“I want candles in my room. And I want you to light them whenever I ask.”

Chloe considered it. “That I can arrange. In return, Trixie can stay here on the weekends. And you’ll play Monopoly with us at least once,” she threw in quickly, eliciting a joyful sound from Trixie.

“You’re walking a fine line there, Detective.”

“Deal or no deal?” Chloe held out her hand, wiggling her fingers, knowing he wouldn’t take it but hoping it would get him to agree.

He surprised her, moving lighting fast, his arm suddenly right alongside hers and then _inside_ hers. It was only for a second, but she yelped nonetheless, pulling her hand back, gasping at the awful sensation. Lucifer just grinned at her. “Deal.”

“Lucifer, what was that for?” Chloe was shaking her tingling arm, then resorted to rubbing it with her left hand to chase the cold away.

“That was for overstepping the bounds of our first deal.” And he was gone.

Trixie, apparently entirely unshaken, just breathed, “Wow, he’s the coolest ghost ever.”

* * *

Trixie set up the Monopoly board on the rug before the fireplace while Chloe was outside to get some more firewood. At this rate she would have to buy more wood at some point. For now, there was enough left, though, so she stocked the little basket as high as she could and carried it back inside.

“I called for him, but he didn’t come,” Trixie announced with a small pout on her lips. “Can you try?”

“We can’t force him to play with us. If he wants to come, he will. But until then we can start a round with just the two of us.”

“Okay. Which piece do you want to play, Mommy?”

“I’ll be the race car as always,” she said with a smirk and proceeded to get the fire going. Only when it wasn’t in danger of going out anymore, she pulled down the blanket from the couch and sat on the rug, the blanket over her knees. “You can start, babe.”

Trixie rolled the dice enthusiastically and it clattered onto the board, where it spun on one edge. Chloe stared at it as it wouldn’t stop spinning, not even after Trixie blew on it. The cool air that settled next to her near the fire gave her an inkling of what was happening, though.

“Lucifer, that’s cheating.”

He appeared and gave her a challenging look. “Is it cheating, if I’m not the one playing?” The dice finally stopped on a five.

“Pretty sure the answer is yes.”

Trixie watched Lucifer, her eyes full of wonder. “Can you make it spin again?”

“No,” he scoffed and turned towards the fire instead.

“Don’t you want to play with us, Lucifer?”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Despite my little trick just then, urchin, I am still unable to touch anything. It’d be too much of a hassle, trying to move a game piece around. Never mind the money. It wouldn’t work.”

“I can move the piece for you,” Trixie offered immediately. “And Mommy can take care of your money. Right?” She looked at Chloe expectantly and Chloe didn’t have the heart to shoot her down.

“We can give it a go. That is, if you want to, Lucifer?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, then longingly stared back into the flames for a moment before letting out a long-suffering sigh. “If you insist.”

Chloe suspected he didn’t mind as much as he was pretending to.

The game took ages, as Monopoly does sometimes. In the end, Chloe declared it a draw, but Trixie begged her to leave everything on the floor as it was so they could continue the game another time. Chloe gave in and helped Trixie to at least move it out of the way.

“Did you have fun, Lucifer?” Trixie asked as Lucifer returned to his fire-gazing, once again sitting so close that Chloe had the ridiculous urge to pull him back so he wouldn’t burn himself.

Lucifer shrugged. “I’ve had worse pastimes, child. I suppose it was enjoyable, though I’m not sure how fair it was that I was basically just sitting there while you and your mother rolled the dice for me.”

“But you got to choose which houses and which streets you wanted to buy.”

“That is true. Like I said, it wasn’t an entire waste of time.”

And that was apparently all he wanted to say on that particular topic for he disappeared before Trixie could ask another question.

“Let’s get you to bed, Monkey, you’ve got school tomorrow and we have to get up really early,” Chloe said and Trixie skipped off to go and brush her teeth.

When she was cuddled up underneath the blankets and Chloe had finished reading her a chapter from her current bedtime book, Trixie asked for another hug and kiss goodnight. Chloe leaned down and hugged her tight, Trixie’s arms around her neck.

“He must have been lonely,” Trixie murmured.

“Do you mean Lucifer?”

“Yeah. I hope he’s less lonely with us around.”

“Me, too, Monkey,” Chloe agreed, her voice quiet. “Me, too.”

Yes, Chloe thought, Lucifer must have been very lonely, and he probably still was. How could he not be, stuck as he was? A plan started forming in her mind as she lay down to sleep that night and by morning, she was determined to see it through.

She would find a way to free him.


	7. Consulting Ella

Gently, Chloe knocked onto the glass of the door to Ella’s lab, getting the other woman’s attention. “Hey.”

Ella pulled out her earbuds, slinging them over her shoulder instead and waving Chloe inside. “Chloe, hi! What’s up?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, so, hypothetically …”

“I love these kind of questions,” Ella grinned and leaned both elbows onto the desk between them.

Chloe bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, but she composed herself and continued. “You said you kind of believe in the supernatural, right? So, if, let’s say, hypothetically, ghosts really are a thing. Like, someone died and is now stuck on Earth, unable to move on. Do you think there’d be any way to help them?”

Ella frowned and shrugged. “Well, yeah. Usually, you help them move on by figuring out what’s keeping them here. Unfinished business, you know? At least that’s how it is in the movies.”

“Right,” Chloe nodded thoughtfully.

“Most of the time it has something to do with how they died. Like, for example, if they were murdered and the perp got away. That’s how it usually goes on Supernatural.”

“The TV show?”

“Yeah. There’s tons of lore behind it.”

“What if the ghost doesn’t remember how he died?”

“He?” Ella questioned. “Just how hypothetical are we talking here?”

Chloe wrung her hands. “Only sort of hypothetical?”

“You’re joking, right? Are you saying you have a ghost that you want to help move on?”

“… Maybe.”

Ella’s expression soured. “You’re not just having a laugh at my expense, right? Like ‘ha ha, Ella believes in ghosts, how funny’.”

“No, Ella, no. Never,” Chloe held her hands up placatingly. “Look, remember I said the house I stay at creeped me out? Well … turns out it really is haunted.”

“There’s a ghost?”

“Yup.”

“And you can see it?” Ella asked, awe coloring her voice.

“Yes,” Chloe nodded. “Well, sometimes he’s invisible but yeah, if he lets me, I can see him.” With a casual shrug, Chloe added, “We talk. A lot.”

“All right, you’ve got to promise me that you’re one hundred per cent serious about this.”

She nodded. “I am. I know it sounds nuts. But I didn’t know who to ask—”

“I see a ghost, too.”

Chloe blinked at her friend owlishly. “Wait, what?”

“I—I see a ghost. Sometimes. Ever since I was a kid,” Ella stuttered, then nervously stumbled over her words. “I was in a car accident and I’m not sure, but I think she was a passenger in the other car, and she didn’t make it out alive. Suddenly she was always there. And she helped me when—” She cut off, then whispered, “I know, this sounds crazy but she’s my friend.” Ella’s eyes had grown wet and she wiped at them furiously. “My family sent me to therapy when I wouldn’t shut up about Rae Rae and they made me take meds but, Chloe, I swear, she’s real.”

“Hey, hey,” Chloe whispered and rushed around the table to carefully embrace her. “Ella, it’s okay. It’s all right. I believe you.” Ella hiccuped on her shoulder, clutching the fabric of Chloe’s shirt tight between her fingers. “I believe you.”

It took a few minutes for Ella to calm down. Understandably so, Chloe thought. If Ella had spent her whole life being told she was crazy, probably on the verge of believing it herself, having Chloe believe her must have been like a dam breaking. Patting her back, Chloe gently freed herself from the hug to look her friend in the eyes.

“Are you okay? Do you want to sit down for a moment? I can get you something to drink.”

“No,” Ella waved her off, wiping the remaining tears away hastily. “No, I’m good. It’s nothing. Let’s talk about your ghost problem instead. You said it’s a guy? Stuck in your house?”

Chloe nodded with a sigh. “Believe it or not, he calls himself Lucifer Morningstar. I don’t know if that’s his real name or not. Could be a stage name for all I know. Googling it didn’t help. He showed up on the second night after failing to scare me off.” She laughed a little at that. “He was all like ‘Get out of my house, I want to be alone’ but I begged him to let me stay and eventually he gave in. Now we’re roomies.”

Ella snorted. “Roomies with a ghost called Lucifer. Man, your life is almost weirder than mine.”

“Tell me about it.”

“And he doesn’t know how he died?”

“He insists that he isn’t dead. Absolutely in denial about it. He says he’s the Devil and the whole ghost thing is a punishment from God.”

Ella unconsciously reached for the cross pendant around her neck. “Why would he think that?”

“I don’t know. It sounds like him and his dad aren’t—or weren’t—on the best of terms. He’s been dead for around thirty years.” Chloe shrugged. “What about your ghost? Why isn’t she moving on?”

“Rae Rae doesn’t know, either. She jokes about it, says that Heaven isn’t ready and how boring it would be, but I think deep down she’s scared. Scared of what’s waiting for her, but also scared that she’ll never find out.”

Chloe swallowed heavily. Man, this ghost gig sucked.

“Why the house, though?”

“Huh?”

Ella settled on one of the stools. “Why is he stuck at the house? Rae Rae isn’t stuck anywhere. She just goes where she wants to go. So, why is Lucifer always at the house?”

“It belonged to a friend of his.”

“Then maybe it’s them,” Ella suggested. “Maybe this isn’t about how he died but about that friend. Who are they? And are they still alive?”

Chloe frowned in thought. “I don’t know. He’s barely mentioned her. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s a _her._ I’m just assuming it is.”

“Then that should be your first order of business. Figure out who owned the house when he was still alive and then find them.”

“That’s actually quite a good idea.” Why had she never thought of that? What other reason could Lucifer have for haunting that house in particular? Of course, it had to be about that previous owner. “Ella, you’re a genius.”

“That’s what they call me.”

Chloe was already halfway to the door, her mind suddenly going a hundred miles an hour, excited to finally have an idea of where to start. “Let’s do lunch again today, yeah? Then I’ll tell you what I find.”

“You got it,” Ella said, pointing finger guns at her. “And Chloe,” she called out when Chloe was already out the door. She poked her head back inside. “Thank you. For, you know, not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Never, Ella.”

She had barely taken two steps out of the lab when she froze in her tracks. Across the room, the elevator had opened. Anthony Paolucci pushed a wheelchair into the bullpen with none other than Malcolm Graham sitting in it. The sight made Chloe swallow hard. This man and everything that had happened at Palmetto were responsible for the screwed-up situation she was in. And she was still one hundred per cent sure that her gut feeling was right: Malcolm was as corrupt as they came. Hell, Paolucci probably was, too. Why couldn’t the other detectives see what she saw? Was it the fear of losing their job? The captain, Jacob Normandy, was friends with Malcolm, and Chloe knew that he was the one who’d pulled the strings that had led to her being demoted. He’d make sure she’d get fired if she dug any deeper, too.

And yet, Chloe still hadn’t closed her investigation. She knew it was risky, ballsy even, but turning a blind eye just didn’t sit right with her.

Keeping her head down, Chloe headed for her desk and desperately hoped she wouldn’t draw any attention. If Malcolm saw her … well, she didn’t want to have _that_ conversation. She should have known she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Decker!”

She flinched imperceptibly, then looked up. Paolucci wheeled Malcolm straight over to her. “Malcolm.”

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” His tone made it clear that he wanted her to deny it, wanted her to drop her calm facade.

“I am glad to see you’re recovering.”

“Can’t keep a good man down,” Malcolm declared loudly, then lowered his voice, only for Chloe and Paolucci to hear. “Because that’s what I am, right? A good man? It seems some people aren’t quite convinced of that.”

Chloe’s eyes narrowed and she hissed, “We both know exactly why you were at Palmetto.”

Malcolm’s hand flew to his chest in mock surprise. “To catch a deplorable criminal, of course. But,” he said and pursed his lips, “unfortunately, I can’t quite remember the incident. Must be the amnesia that came with the coma.”

Chloe fumed. That disgusting little—

“I’ll see you around, Decker. And I hope you change your mind about little ol’ me.” He shot her a winning smile and Paolucci pushed him past Chloe, but not without brushing his shoulder against hers, forcing her to stumble a step backwards.

Her blood was boiling but she hadn’t been an actress for nothing. Deceptively calm she continued on her way to her desk and opened the database. She had a case to work after all. Right now, she worried about Lucifer and how to help him. Malcolm could go fuck himself.

About an hour later, she rolled her chair back, and rubbed her temples in frustration. The search in the police database had been entirely fruitless. The house didn’t ping any cases. The Google search that had followed had resulted in some housing adverts for _Dire Oaks_ but nothing more.

Determined to at least talk to the guy who owned the house right now, Chloe pulled out her phone. The dial tone sounded for about ten seconds before Penelope picked up.

“Hey, Mom,” Chloe greeted her mother.

“Hi there, Pumpkin. How is it going with the apartment hunt? You know, I thought about the beach house again and I—”

“That’s not why I’m calling, Mom. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it, honey?”

“The guy who owns the house, what’s his name?”

Penelope seemed taken aback by the question but answered it anyways. “Griffin. Thomas Griffin. Why do you ask?”

“Did he use to live there?”

“No, he never did. A mutual friend of ours did. Thomas just takes care of it. Tries to sell it, but honestly, I think he’s given up on finding a new owner.”

“Which mutual friend?”

“Oh, Chloe, why this interrogation?”

“Please, Mom, this is important.”

With a sigh, Penelope relented. “Her name was Delilah. She was a singer back in the day. I met her on set for one of my movies once. She worked on the soundtrack. But, honey, she’s dead.”

Chloe was frozen. She knew of Delilah. Of course, she did. She’d brought Lucifer one of her albums to listen to. And he’d stared at it as if he’d seen a ghost himself. Not once had he asked her to put that particular record on. It was somewhere on the bottom of the pile and now Chloe knew why. He’d known her. He’d been her friend. Maybe more than that.

“Chloe, is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she croaked and swallowed hard. “Mom, when did Delilah die?”

“Chloe …”

“Mom, please. Just this one question?”

“Fall of 1984. She was murdered but it was all very hush hush. The police … I suppose, they didn’t want the publicity. I don’t know what happened exactly. All I know is that they rushed to close the case, and no one ever spoke of it again,” Penelope said bitterly. “They said it was her own fault for doing drugs.”

“Shit,” Chloe breathed. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Well, it’s hardly your fault. Your dad was just as furious as I was back then.” Chloe heard her swallow down the lump in her throat on the other end of the line. “But, honey, why do you ask about her?”

“I want to figure out what happened to her.”

“But why? You don’t even know her.”

“To help a mutual friend.”

And now she had something to go on. A case, a murder, Delilah. It all fit. She’d died thirty-two years ago, and someone had tried to cover it up, had tried to sweep Delilah’s death under the rug. That definitely sounded like unfinished business. No wonder Lucifer was still around if the murder of his friend had never been properly solved.

“Thanks, Mom,” Chloe said hurriedly. “I’ve got to go. We’ll talk soon.”

She hung up and internally cringed, knowing she’d sit through a lecture from her mom for that soon. Brushing the though aside for now, she returned to her search in the database. Her gut was already telling her that something was foul there. There should have been _some_ mention of _Dire Oaks_ in the case of Delilah’s murder, if that was where she’d lived. But there wasn’t.

Even when she found the files regarding Delilah’s murder, the address was never mentioned. In fact, the files were entirely incomplete. Nothing but a name, a date, and the name of the detective in charge of investigation. All of it stamped with a big _solved_.

“Gotcha,” Chloe whispered with a grin. Quickly, she noted the file number, vowing to dig up all the physical evidence she could find in the archive downstairs. There had to be more than this. If not, well, Chloe wasn’t above working the case all over again, if that meant she’d get justice for Delilah. Even if it had been over thirty years ago.

* * *

“I’ve never seen this many dust bunnies,” Ella commented, faking a sneeze.

They had canceled their lunch plans, opting to spend it in the archive of the precinct instead, going through boxes of old case files. Ella had raided the vending machine, sharing her loot with Chloe as they sat across from each other, deciphering awful penmanship. The forensic had immediately agreed that something about the case seemed fishy. She’d even conducted a quick search herself and hadn’t even found the crime scene report detailing what had happened on scene. It looked an awful lot like someone at the LAPD had helped make this case disappear.

“Found it,” Ella exclaimed suddenly and turned the file around so Chloe could read. “November ‘84. Drive-by shooter right in front of the house. Oh man, and then the guy wrapped the car around a tree.”

Chloe skimmed the report. It had happened right there at _Dire Oaks_. The shooter had died at the scene, a drug dealer who’d been immediately associated with Delilah. The few photos in the file all showed the wrecked car and the deceased driver. All except for one. The last picture showed the porch of the house at a short distance, a yellow crime scene marker on the ground. No pictures of Delilah’s body. The lack of pictures was just as suspicious as the rest of the case. It seemed the case had been closed as quickly as humanly possible. Probably partly to avoid the press that the death of a celebrity attracted, Chloe thought.

Still, the whole thing had been opened and shut without any further investigation and Chloe’s gut immediately protested. If she was right, then Lucifer needed the closure of finding out _why_ that drug dealer had killed Delilah. If Chloe found the reason, Lucifer could move on. This had to be it.

She couldn’t explain the sudden regret that started filling her chest. Or maybe it wasn’t regret so much as it was sadness. Didn’t she want Lucifer to finally be able to move on? He’d be grateful, wouldn’t he? This was what he needed and Chloe would be damned, if she didn’t help him. But she couldn’t deny that she’d grown fond of the ghost. Talking to him, spending the evenings with him by the fireplace, it all felt so very domestic and he never failed to make her feel better.

Chloe shook her head. He was dead. Lucifer was dead and she couldn’t possibly entertain the thought of being friends with him for the rest of her life. Once she moved from _Dire Oaks,_ she’d most likely never see him again. Helping him move on was the best thing for everyone involved.

“Any witnesses?” Chloe asked Ella who was still flipping through the file.

“One, yes. Mary Winston. She was walking her dog and saw it happen. But her statement was disregarded. Says here, she was in a state of shock and couldn’t recall the events correctly.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising,” Chloe murmured. “But it’s a lead, nonetheless. Her statement can’t be any less informative than the file itself. I think, I’ll talk to her. Is there an address or a phone number?”

“No,” Ella shook her head. “But maybe we’ll find one in the witness database.”

“Or Yellow Pages,” Chloe huffed. “Seriously, what happened that someone got rid of half the evidence and then made sure the digital files would be just as incomplete? The detective on the case, what was his name? Walsh?” Ella nodded. “I’ve never even heard of him. I don’t think he’s at this precinct anymore.”

“Or he’s retired already,” Ella said with a shrug.

Chloe bit her lip and nodded. “Well, I’d rather talk to the witness first. If Walsh had anything to do with the cover-up, I don’t want to talk to him without any further information. Did he have a partner?”

Ella frowned. “None listed here. Not for this case.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Chloe sighed. “Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll try to find Mary Winston and then I think I’ll call it a day. Malcolm is still at the precinct and I really don’t want to run into him again.”

Ella gave her a calculating look. “Is that the guy who was in a coma?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the story already. Palmetto, my demotion …” She waved it away.

“For the record, if you say he’s a corrupt cop, I totally believe you.”

“Thank you, Ella.” Chloe appreciated Ella’s undeterred faith in her. Not even Dan had believed her, so to have at least Ella on her team meant a lot.

“So, you’re going back to _Dire Oaks_?” Ella asked and waited for Chloe’s nod. “Couldn’t you ask Lucifer about what happened?”

“I could. But I don’t think he’ll tell me anything. He doesn’t even believe he’s dead. And Delilah … his death and everything around it feels like a very touchy subject.” She recalled his reaction to Delilah’s album and how quickly he’d hidden it all away behind his ever-cheery facade. Still, talking to him was worth a try. If he didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t push him, and if he got upset, she’d offer him some more music or— “Candles.”

“What?” Ella asked, bewildered.

“I forgot to get him candles.”

“Lucifer? Candles? What for?”

Chloe waved her hand around. “It was this stupid deal. He didn’t want Trixie around, so now he’s getting candles as compensation.” Ella looked on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, I know. He’s a little weird sometimes.”

“Good for him,” Ella mused. “And your kid? How does she like the house?”

“She loves it. Though I think she’ll get bored soon, you know, without all her stuff to play with.”

“I could lend her my Playstation,” Ella shrugged. “I’ve got a few games she could play, if she likes that kind of thing.”

“You would? I mean, Trixie would love it.”

“Sure, yeah,” Ella nodded immediately. “I’ll bring it sometime before the next weekend. She can have it until you find a new place.”

“You know, Ella, you really are the best!”

Ella’s smile was bright. “Stop it, it’ll go to my head.”

* * *

“So,” Chloe huffed and loaded off her bag on the bench of the piano in Lucifer’s room.

After she’d found her witness and had given her a quick call to announce her visit for the following day, Chloe had packed in her stuff and had driven to the nearest Walmart. There she’d loaded her cart with a few boxes of candles and the groceries she needed for the rest of the week. By the time she’d loaded her loot into the trunk, the after-work rush hour had started. Avoiding the highways, she’d steered through the city, arriving just as the sun had begun to set.

When she’d reached Lucifer’s door upstairs it had swung open, revealing Lucifer sitting on the window seat and gazing outside. He’d lit up like the stars when his eyes met hers, and she held up the bag of candles and his smile got impossibly wider.

“I found some glasses in the kitchen to put the candles in. Where do you want them? And how many? I got a bunch, I wasn’t sure what you were imagining.”

“All of them,” he demanded immediately, suddenly right next to her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Can I trust you with these or are you going to burn the house down?”

His answering shrug was one of nonchalance. “Who knows? Maybe if I burn it down, I won’t be stuck here anymore.”

“Lucifer,” she admonished. “You can’t burn the house down. What if you do and you’re still stuck on the grounds?”

He shuddered visibly. “Dad, no, that’s worse.”

“So, I can trust you?”

“Yes, you can, Detective. I won’t push them over.”

Chloe set the candles up all over the room according to Lucifer’s instructions. In the end, most of the glasses stood on the floor along the walls, and Chloe proceeded to pull out a lighter, going from candle to candle until the room was bathed in their orange glow. Lucifer watched from his perch on the piano bench.

“Thank you, Detective. Consider your end of the deal done.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Chloe said and sat next to him. “You already let Trixie stay. You even played Monopoly.”

“It … wasn’t as bad as I expected. Your spawn will return come Friday, I presume?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

He nodded. “Then she’s welcome.”

“Why do you call her spawn?”

Lucifer looked at her, slightly baffled. “Because that’s what she is. Human spawn. The most tolerable one I’ve encountered so far. I mean, she’s nothing to crow about, either, but she’s clever. Can’t say that about most others. Sticky, ungrateful little creatures.”

“So, it’s an endearment?”

He scowled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Chloe steeled herself and decided to try her luck. Now or never. “But there’s children on the picture on the mantle downstairs. Did you know them? Or did you avoid them like the plague you think they are?” she teased, hoping to keep the tone of their conversation as light as possible.

Still, he stiffened a little. “That picture, it’s—” He huffed out a breath, then started anew. “My friend who owned this house, it’s her family. She’s one of the children in the picture.”

“What was her name?”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

Chloe ducked her head. “No, of course not, if you’d rather not. I just thought—”

“What?” he spat, suddenly enraged. “What did you think?”

“I thought maybe you’d _want_ to talk about this. After all, you didn’t have anyone to talk to for thirty years. Something happened to your friend, didn’t it? And you’re still grieving?”

“I’m not—” Lucifer flickered wildly. With clenched teeth, he continued, “I’m not grieving. I’m furious. What happened to her wasn’t fair.”

“Tell me?”

“No!” A gust of wind swept through the room and extinguished most of the candles. Chloe shivered a little. It seemed like the cold that constantly surrounded Lucifer had increased tenfold. “What are you trying to do here, Detective? Have you been snooping? Trying to figure me out? My past?”

“Lucifer, I just—”

“What happened here is none of your concern,” he growled. The last of the candles were snuffed by another breeze and suddenly Lucifer was back on the window seat, leaving Chloe alone at the piano. “Leave.”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer, I didn’t mean—”

“I said _leave_.”

Chloe hesitated for another second, then grabbed her bag and left the room. The door slammed closed behind her and she stood in the hallway, her fingers clasped in the fabric of her bag. That definitely hadn’t gone down like she’d wanted it to.


	8. The Bullet on the Porch

Chloe drove by the precinct first the next morning. After all, she still had official work that needed to be done. Her little private investigation wasn’t exactly what the department paid her for. She cleared her desk from paperwork in record time, her upcoming talk with the witness, Mrs. Winston, enough of an incentive to spur her on.

On her way out for her supposed ‘lunch break’, Chloe made a quick stop in the break room to get a coffee for the way. In hindsight, a stupid decision.

As she filled her cup, the door to the break room opened and Malcolm Graham walked in. Her blood ran cold.

“Hey, Decker.”

“What do you want, Malcolm?”

“Why so hostile?” he said, both eyebrows raised high. As if he had to ask, that prick. “I just want to talk.”

“I don’t really have anything to talk to you about.”

“Oh, but I think you do. See,” he perched on one of the tables, “I don’t like the rumors you’re spreading about me.”

Chloe took a deep breath and faced him straight on. “Listen Malcolm, I’m not spreading rumors. In fact,” she said, “I am closing my investigation. I shouldn’t have … I shouldn’t have kept it open. Especially not after you got shot. So, you can just go about your day. I’m not going to stand in your way.”

“Now, now,” Malcolm crowed, his head tilted to the side. “It’s not like you, Decker, to give up that easily. Not like you at all.”

“If you didn’t notice, my entire career—no, my entire life is going downhill because of this shit, so I think you’ll understand that I want no part in this anymore.”

He seemed to consider this. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want you to get into any more trouble.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it. Just … leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan, Decker.” He stood and held his hand out to her. Chloe glanced sideways through the window into the bullpen. He knew just as well as her that people were watching. A handshake would definitely look like they’d made up.

She shook his hand and forced a smile onto her face.

“Good talk, Decker.”

He sauntered out of the room and Chloe let out a long breath. Maybe that would keep him off her back for a while. She had better things to do than worry about him.

* * *

Mrs. Winston’s apartment was small. The old lady let her in immediately when she saw her badge. Chloe felt bad using it like this, after all she wasn’t really here on official LAPD business. She was investigating all on her own, no partner, no backup, and no jurisdiction. And all of it so that her ghost roommate could move on.

“Take a seat, Detective Decker. Would you like some tea?” Mrs. Winston offered but Chloe politely declined even as she took a seat on the couch in the tiny living room. The walls were lined with picture frames showing several kids. Grandchildren possibly.

“Mrs. Winston, I’m here to ask you a few questions about the shooting you witnessed in 1984.”

“Oh, yes. That was a terrible day. That poor girl.”

“Did you know Delilah?”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t know her. Not really. We were neighbors, yes, but the houses were so far apart, we barely ever saw each other. I only passed the house whenever I walked my dog. Fitzpatrick liked the trees down at the end of the street.”

“Fitzpatrick is your dog, I assume?”

“Yes. But he’s long gone by now.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” Chloe cleared her throat. “Can you tell me what you remember about that day of the shooting?”

“Well,” Mrs. Winston began. “I’m not the youngest anymore, dear, but I’ll try my best to piece it all together. See, I was walking Fitzpatrick, same route as always. Down to the willow tree and back. I was still a few yards away from _Dire Oaks,_ but I could see Delilah on the porch. She was with a man, but I didn’t know him. Then a car passed me from behind, driving towards the house.” She took a sip of her tea, the memories clearly overwhelming her. “It all happened very fast. The driver had the window down and he barely slowed down, when he—” She gulped. “When he fired. Several times. I saw them fall. Delilah and the man, I mean. I—I dropped Fitz’s leash and he took off toward the trees. The shooter wanted to take a U-turn at the end of the street, but he had to swerve to avoid running over my Fitz. And he hit the tree. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do anything. It was all over so fast.” She sniffled once, visibly trying to keep her composure.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Winston. Take your time. I’m just trying to understand what went down. Can you tell me what happened next?”

Mrs. Winston wiped her nose with a handkerchief she produced from her pocket. “I ran up to the porch. They were both lying there, both of them dead. I still remember her eyes, so empty, staring up at nothing. There was blood on her clothes.” She sniffed. “I probably should have done something, CPR maybe, but I just—I went past them, into the house and I called the police.”

Chloe tried to keep her question from sounding disbelieving, especially because she suspected the woman was telling the absolute truth. “The case file I read never mentioned a second victim. So, did the man survive?”

Mrs. Winston let out a humorless chuckle. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Everyone else did. The detective on the case, the EMT.” She shook her head. “But I know what I saw.”

“And what was that?”

She gave Chloe a calculating look. “When I went inside, the man was lying there right next to Delilah and I _knew_ he was dead. And when I got back outside after calling the police he was gone.”

“Gone?”

“Like the Earth had swallowed him up. He couldn’t have walked away, I’m sure he was dead.”

“I believe you.”

“How could you? It sounds crazy. I know it does.”

Chloe hummed. “Yes, maybe it does. But that doesn’t mean there’s no explanation.”

“They disregarded my statement as a witness immediately after I told them. Which, well …”

“What?”

She hesitated. “The detective back then, he closed the case as quickly as he could. It was kept out of the press. There was absolutely no investigation. The shooter was dead. So was Delilah. So, they closed the case.”

Chloe nodded knowingly. “Yes, that what it seemed like to me as well. Which is why I want to find out what happened. I think there’s more to it.”

“Then you have my full respect, Detective Decker. You are an honest soul. I hope you find answers.”

Chloe gave her a grateful smile. “Just one more question, Mrs. Winston. Do you think you could describe the man? The second victim?”

“Yes, I believe I can. He was tall, taller than Delilah, even in heels. Dark hair, handsome face. He was wearing a suit, but it didn’t look business-like, if you know what I mean. It was more casual. Black suit, white shirt underneath. He had a ring on his finger, but the details escape me. It’s been too long.”

As Mrs. Winston finished her description, Chloe took a deep breath and tried to keep her eyes from filling with tears. She was describing Lucifer. Chloe had almost known, had suspected—but still nothing could have prepared her for hearing the words come out of Mrs. Winston’s mouth.

Lucifer had died that day. Right next to Delilah. She had no idea what had happened to his body, but Lucifer had been haunting the house ever since, unable to accept his own death.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winston. I think I got everything I needed. If I have any more questions, may I contact you?”

“Yes, of course. Anything for poor Delilah.”

Chloe shook Mrs. Winston’s hand in goodbye. “Thank you for your time.”

Back in her car, Chloe had to take few minutes to calm her racing heart. She had her proof. She knew what she needed to do. And still, that strange sadness had returned. The fear of losing Lucifer, she realized. She didn’t want him to go, however selfish it was. If she didn’t help him, he might never be able to leave _Dire Oaks_. If she didn’t try to solve this, it would be just as much her fault as it was Detective Walsh’s fault for not investigating in the first place.

After a couple minutes of staring at the steering wheel, she shifted the gears and made for _Dire Oaks_. She had a crime scene to inspect.

* * *

Chloe approached the house at a slow pace, taking in the steps up to the porch and the space right before the front door. It was still covered in fallen leaves, some swirling in the gentle breeze. She climbed to the top of the stairs, the fingers of her left hand grazing the railing of the porch, trying to picture the scene. The single photo from evidence was all she had as reference. That and Mrs. Winston’s statement.

Chloe glanced back towards the street. It would have been a clear shot.

Lucifer’s voice startled her.

“You are standing right where she died.”

He was sitting on the Hollywood swing, his gaze fixed on where Chloe stood. The swing swayed a little in the wind, making it look like he was the one moving it. Lucifer was staring at the spot on the wooden planks as if he could still see Delilah’s body.

“She was your friend, wasn’t she? Delilah?” Chloe already knew the answers to these questions, but she wanted to hear them from him. This was his story. He deserved to tell it.

“She was. And she was taken from me,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “She was going to do so much more. And they gunned her down.” His eyes met Chloe’s. “And then the police didn’t even bother to find out what was behind all of it.”

“I know. I saw the files.”

“Then you know what happened,” he spat, voice getting louder. “Well, Detective? Did you come to take a look at the scene of the crime? Did you want to see where the bullets ripped through the wood? Or would you rather like to hear how they ripped through _her_?”

He was angry and he directed that anger at Chloe. She didn’t blame him. She could understand his frustration with the awful police work on this case. “Tell me, then,” she said gently, as she approached and took a seat next to him. The cold around him bit into her skin ruthlessly.

“What’s there to tell? I’m sure the police files covered it all perfectly.”

“I doubt they did. They didn’t mention any stray bullets hitting the porch for one thing.”

Lucifer laughed humorlessly, the temperature taking another dip as the wind around them picked up. “Well, don’t look behind the _Welcome_ sign, then, Detective. We wouldn’t want to burst that bubble.”

Chloe shivered and it didn’t have anything to do with the cold. The sign. She had thought it charming, when she’d first arrived. In truth, it hid a bullet hole. A paradox in its message. It made her feel sick.

“You died right along with her. Didn’t you?” Chloe kept her voice quiet but still he flinched.

“ _I did not_. And even if that were true, Detective, it doesn’t matter! Delilah didn’t deserve to die. And whoever was behind her murder got away unpunished!”

“I talked to a witness. She saw you. She saw you get shot.”

Lucifer turned a grim expression on her. “Oh, but did they find a second body? Was I lying next to Delilah when they found her? No, they didn’t. I’m not dead, Detective.”

“Then how do you explain it? She died in a hailstorm of bullets and you just walk away?”

“The benefits of immortality.”

“You’re a ghost!” Before Lucifer could argue that point, she waved his protests off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I want to help you.”

“You ... what?”

“I want to find Delilah’s killer. I already dug through the case files and so many things don’t add up. Someone tried to sweep this case under the rug. Keep it from ever being solved.”

“And what makes you think you will be able to solve it thirty years later?”

Chloe shrugged. “A gut feeling? Usually those are pretty spot-on when it comes to me.”

He seemed to ponder that for a moment, then his eyes returned to the spot on the porch, where Chloe could imagine Delilah’s body. “You know, the night you arrived here was the night Delilah died. Thirty-two years ago.”

Chloe blinked. She hadn’t noticed but he was right. The date on the police report was the same as her first night at _Dire Oaks_. Well, the night she’d spent at a motel in the end.

“It seems like my Dad is trying to be funny,” he huffed, then turned to face her. “I’d be in your debt, Detective, if you were to find out why she was killed.”

“I’m not doing this to get something in return.”

“Then why?”

“Because I believe people should be brought to justice. And … you’re my friend, Lucifer. Delilah meant a lot to you, I can see as much. If it helps you heal, then this is the least I can do.”

“Very well, then, Detective. I believe that if anyone can solve this, it is you.”

She nodded in thanks. “Will you tell me what you know? About what happened?”

“I’m an open book, Detective, if you think it will help. But I somehow doubt you want to have this conversation out here freezing to death. Wouldn’t you rather take this inside?”

She shivered involuntarily. It was a bit chilly but the unnatural cold emanating from Lucifer had dissipated. “You just want to sit by the fire, don’t you?”

“I admit my proposal may not have been entirely altruistic.” He smirked at her and vanished.

Sighing, Chloe got up and followed him inside. Lucifer stood by the window looking out into the back yard when she stepped through the arch into the living room. He flickered a little as she stepped closer but otherwise didn’t react. Chloe began piling up some logs in the fireplace and set fire to a piece of old newspaper underneath. It took a few minutes for the logs to truly catch fire. By the time they did, Lucifer was crouching next to her, his fingers already outstretched towards the dancing flames.

Chloe sat down where she’d been kneeling, watching him from the side, waiting. He felt her eyes on him, she knew, but he was taking his time. When his hand was entirely engulfed by flames, he finally pulled it back, inspecting the unscathed flesh for a moment, before turning towards her.

“I met Delilah the same night I came to Earth. I washed up on the beach—a little miscalculation on my part, but it had been some time since I’d last come topside.”

“Wait, where were you before you came here?” Chloe asked, furrowing her brow.

“In Hell, of course. I’ve told you.”

“Yes, of course. You’re still sticking to that story,” Chloe said with a roll of her eyes. “You know, you can tell me if you were involved with something illegal. It’s not like I could arrest you.”

Lucifer scowled. “Do you want to hear about Delilah or not?”

“Yes. Sorry. Keep going.”

He sighed and turned his gaze back on the flames. “I was still soaked when she found me wandering through LA’s streets, but she said she knew a guy. She took me to him, he provided me with a change of clothes and … well, she expected nothing in return. Told me, she knew what it was like to have nothing.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I asked her what she desired anyway. And she told me she wanted to make a living by making music. Naturally, I did her the favor.”

“You helped her get into the business? How?”

“By granting others favors, of course. I’m quite adept at that.” He smirked a little. “I introduced Delilah to a producer by the name of Jimmy Barnes and he saw her talent for what it was. It didn’t take long and she released her first and only album. She made enough money with that to afford this place. She was still in the process of renovating, when she died.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to want her dead? Did she have issues with anyone?”

“I didn’t know her for long. Maybe a year if it comes down to it. But I suppose she had enough encounters with shady people before I met her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Delilah was an addict. She was trying to ease off the drugs, but it wasn’t easy. I tried to help her, kept telling her to pull herself together, to not waste her talent. I was … the night she got shot, I was visiting her, checking up on her because she’d called me. She wasn’t doing well, she told me as much.”

“So, maybe the whole thing _was_ drug related,” Chloe mused. “That’s what the report says. The shooter was a known drug dealer, so of course that was the simple conclusion.”

“No,” Lucifer said vehemently. “Delilah was on her way to recovery.”

“You just said she wasn’t doing well.”

“Because she’d been off any sort of drugs for months. It was the withdrawal that was hard on her.”

“Could she have been lying? About being clean?”

The glare Lucifer shot her was devastating. “She wouldn’t lie. Not to me.”

“Okay,” Chloe said placatingly. “I just want to consider every option. Who else could she have had problems with? Any friends you know of? A boyfriend?”

“She didn’t have many close friends as far as I know. But she hit it off with Jimmy Barnes. They got engaged and almost married.”

“Almost?”

“She left him at the altar. Quite the scandal,” he grinned. “But Jimmy did his best to keep it out of the press.”

“And that worked?” Chloe asked disbelievingly.

“Their relationship wasn’t a very public one.”

Chloe nodded, the wheels in her head turning. “That’s at least one suspect then.”

“What, Jimmy Barnes?”

“Yup.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at her. “But why? He is an idiot, yes. But I wouldn’t think him that much of an idiot.”

“Well, people sometimes do things you wouldn’t expect of them, especially when they’re angry.”

He shook his head, scoffing. “Humans. Honestly.”

Intrigued by his odd quip, she asked, “So, if you’re not human, tell me again, why do you think you’re being punished?”

“We’ve been over this, Detective. You don’t believe me, so I don’t see the point in explaining it again.”

“Then let’s say I believe you. You’re the Devil, from the bible and all that. God is your father.”

“He is.”

“Okay. So, you left Hell and came to Earth. Why?”

“Would you want to be in Hell?” he challenged.

“But you’re the king, aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t make it a vacation spot, Detective. It was my punishment for acting out. I was thrown from the Silver City, exiled, never to return. Falling was … well, frankly unimaginable for your kind. Eventually, I recovered. I became king. Only to find that all of humanity feared and hated me, making me their scapegoat for every sin they committed.” His voice had taken on a bitter tone. “I’ve never made anyone do anything. And yet they call me the root of all evil.”

Chloe hummed. “I don’t know much about religion. Never went to church, you know. So, I never understood all that _the Devil made me do it_ stuff.”

“It’s ridiculous, the things they blame me for.”

“Do you hate humans, then?”

He didn’t answer straight away, and when he did, it was quieter, more contemplative than before. “No, I don’t. Humans are fascinating. I found myself leaving Hell again and again just to get to experience Earth and watch humanity. It never lasted long.”

“Why not?”

“My brother, Amenadiel, always came and escorted me back to Hell. I wasn’t technically allowed to leave in the first place, so it was his job to make sure I didn’t, but I slipped past him over and over again.” He smiled a little. “It was fun in a way.”

“What was different this time? You stayed on Earth for a year and he never came?”

“Oh, he did. But I hid. I flew all over the place, always one step ahead of him. I knew it wouldn’t last forever but I was determined to give him a hard time. He never was quite as fast as me.”

“You make it sound like he chased you through the streets,” Chloe laughed.

“Through the air is more like it.”

“What?” Chloe was still chuckling. “Can you fly?”

“Yes.” His expression was entirely serious.

“No way.”

“I may have fallen, Detective, but I do still have wings. I used to be an angel after all.”

“Right,” Chloe nodded and threw her hands up. “I’m done. This is getting too ridiculous. Sorry.”

His face fell. “Of course. You don’t believe any of it. Why did I even bother?”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer, but you have to admit it sounds crazy. Angels and devils? God, Heaven, Hell? I don’t believe in all that stuff.”

Lucifer regarded her, his expression guarded. “You believe that I’m a ghost, yes? Then why do you have such trouble accepting that I might be the Devil?”

“Because I’ve seen proof of you being a ghost.”

“So, if I were to give you proof, you’d believe me?”

“Look, Lucifer,” Chloe turned all the way to face him. “I have a hard time believing what you’re telling me because even if I don’t know much about religion, I know that the Devil isn’t—well, he isn’t you. The Devil is supposed to be a torturer, a tempter, and, well … you’re not.” He opened his mouth to argue, but Chloe didn’t let him. “You are kind, Lucifer. You are funny and passionate—it all just doesn’t fit. The fact that I don’t believe in any higher power only adds to that.”

“But what if you’re wrong? What if I really am the Devil and there really is a God? Then what? Would you hate me? Would you run from me?”

His serious tone made Chloe hesitate. Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I’m not scared of you, Lucifer.”

He only nodded. “Very well. I can only hope that you’ll believe me one day, then.”

They were interrupted by Chloe’s phone. She excused herself, standing up from the fireplace before answering it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Chloe. It’s me,” the cheery voice on the other end announced.

“Ella. What’s up?”

“So, I’m outside your house. Well, I think I’m outside your house. If it is the creepy one at the end of the street with that total horror movie vibe, then I’m definitely in the right place.”

Chloe frowned and glanced towards the front door. “What? Why? What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d bring over the Playstation now, you know? Didn’t have anything better to do and well … _Imayhavehopedtomeetyourghost_.”

Chloe clucked her tongue. “Uh huh, what was that last bit?”

“Look, I’m just curious. It’s the scientist in me.”

“Ella, I don’t mean to be rude and send you away but,” she glanced at Lucifer, who watched her with rapt attention, “I haven’t told him that I told you, you know? And I don’t think he’s up for meet and greets.”

“Oh, I totally get that,” Ella assured her. “I don’t want to be a bother. But I really did bring the Playstation, so maybe let me just load that off?”

“All right, yes. Fine.”

“Great!” Ella cheered. “I’ll approach the totally not-creepy house, then.” She hung up before Chloe could say another word.

Lucifer gave her an expectant look. “Am I wrong to assume that you were talking about me?”

Chloe pressed her lips together for a second, knowing the guilt would be edged onto her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to tell her, otherwise I totally would have asked you first. But it just … came out.”

“And she believed you?” he asked, astonished. “And who is she anyway?”

“Ella. From work. And yes, she, well—she says she has seen a ghost before.”

Lucifer scoffed and looked back at the fire. “I highly doubt that. But by all means, go entertain your friend.” He flickered violently and disappeared. Chloe began to see a pattern in that: Flickering meant irritation or anger. So, yes, she’d pissed him off. Again.

She decided to deal with that later, instead making her way to the front door and opening it up for Ella. The bubbly forensic presented her with a bag that held the console, two controllers and several games that could be considered suitable for Trixie. Chloe thanked her, hoping Ella would let it go and leave but, of course, she had no such luck.

“So,” she said, stretching the word impossibly long. “Can you at least show me around the house?”

“Ella,” Chloe whined. “He’s not exactly what you would call a social person.”

“Because he’s a ghost, duh.”

“Yeah, don’t call him that to his face, he gets seriously upset about it.”

Ella put her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please, Chloe, please. I’m begging you here.”

“I can see that.” Chloe stood her ground but slowly Ella’s doe eyes melted her conviction. “Fine. Fine, come in. I think I have a bottle of wine somewhere. Or a cup of coffee. But,” she said and held up a finger, “I can’t promise you he’ll show. He doesn’t like people in the house. He might just go sulk upstairs somewhere. You’ll never find him, if he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Noted,” Ella said cheerily, apparently not at all fazed by the slim chances.

Chloe should have known Lucifer would show up simply to be controversial. Apparently, he had some serious issues with the fact that Ella proclaimed to have seen a ghost before.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, a coffee each, and Ella couldn’t seem to contain her excitement, which was considerable even if there was no prospect of her meeting Lucifer.

“What does he look like, by the way?” Ella was just asking. “The ghost I know, she always wears these huge glasses and she’s got black hair, quite short like this.” She pointed out the length on her own hair. “She’s quite nerdy.”

That’s where Lucifer butted right in. “I assure you, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He was lounging on the chair next to Chloe, the table a physical barrier between him and Ella. Chloe just sighed, “Of course, you show up. Why not?”, but Ella’s eyes widened drastically, when he appeared out of thin air and she put down her mug so quickly that she spilled a little coffee on the table. “Oh, wow. Hi,” she breathed.

“I can’t tell if you’re simply lying or whether you’re a bit of a loony.”

Ella raised an affronted eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’m not lying. And I’m not crazy.”

“Then why do you proclaim to have seen a ghost, when there is no such thing?” He emphasized those last three words dramatically, leaning over the table a little, his eyes boring into Ella’s.

The forensic just huffed. “It’s true, though. You may not believe you are a ghost but the one I know, she’s real. And she’s my friend. I could ask her to come with me next time I see her. Maybe you’ll believe me, then.”

“Oh, right,” Lucifer scoffed.

“Don’t fight, please,” Chloe jumped in. “I believe Ella, Lucifer. She wouldn’t make this up.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Rae Rae is real. She proved it to me, several times.”

Lucifer froze. Chloe saw him tense and she wanted to reach out to calm him down but then she realized: it wasn’t anger that made him freeze up. It was surprise. “What did you just say?”

“I said she proved it to me.”

“No, no,” he waved her off. “What did you say her name was?”

“Oh,” Ella said. “Rae Rae. I think it’s a nickname. Maybe it’s just Rae.” Ella shrugged. Lucifer nodded, flickered and vanished. Ella’s eyes widened once more and she gave Chloe a panicked look. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s just—he gets like that sometimes.”

They finished their coffee in relative silence until Ella mumbled something about getting out of Chloe’s hair. Feeling bad about throwing Ella out after she’d made the long drive out here, Chloe asked her to stay a little longer and show her how to set up the Playstation.

It didn’t end there.

An hour later, they were both sitting on the floor in front of the TV, blankets and pillows all around them, and a wine glass each, as they played _Rocket League_. Chloe was hopelessly bad at it, but it was a laugh and once she had the controls figured out, she got better at chasing after the ball. With her tongue stuck out, she pressed on the button to accelerate, when she noticed the cold spot settling behind them. Knowing he was probably still a bit upset, Chloe pretended she hadn’t noticed him.

Then she heard him snort when she careened past the ball at full speed.

“Shut up, you wouldn’t be any better at this,” Chloe laughed, and before Ella could voice her confusion, Lucifer decided to appear.

“I don’t get how it works, anyhow,” he shrugged. “But it does look like it’s fun. More fun than Monopoly.” He watched them play for a few more minutes and Chloe could see that Ella was longing to say something to him, maybe apologize, but he spoke up first. “I am sorry, if I came across as rude earlier, Miss Lopez. I do not think you a liar.”

Chloe frowned a little—had she told him Ella’s last name?—but Ella just smiled at him. “It’s okay. Don’t sweat it.”

He took a breath, visibly steeling himself for his next words. “I have a sister who goes by that name. Rae Rae. I suppose the mention of her name put me off.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Ella said. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“That’s quite all right, Miss Lopez.”

“How do you feel about a hug?” Ella asked and threw her arms out to do just that, apparently unperturbed by the fact that he was incorporeal, but before she could get near, Lucifer’s eyes widened and he was gone instantly.

Chloe snorted and looked around, spotting him all the way in the far corner of the kitchen. It seemed hugs were just as bad as ‘human spawn’. Ella looked positively chastised.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset him,” she whispered.

Chloe waved off her concerns and called out, “Come back, Lucifer. She won’t try to hug you again.” He shook his head vehemently and disappeared. Chloe sighed in exasperation. “Come back here or I’ll let the fire go out,” she offered.

“Your bribery won’t get you anywhere,” he answered, his voice coming from everywhere at once.

Chloe glanced at Ella, trying to think of another incentive. “Ella can explain how the Playstation works.” She heard his quiet huff and knew she’d won. A moment later he was sitting right in front of Ella who let out a short shriek at his sudden appearance.

“How,” he asked, “do the cars know which button you’re pressing?”

Chloe grinned at Ella. “He’s all yours,” she said and went to refill the wine glasses.


	9. Past the Porch, Beyond the Yard

“I’m going to talk to Jimmy Barnes today. See if he’s got anything to say about Delilah’s murder,” Chloe declared over her breakfast of cereal and coffee.

Lucifer, who was sitting opposite her, watching her eat as if it was the single most interesting thing he’d ever seen, instantly stiffened. “You want to go talk to him?”

“Yeah. As her ex he’s likely to have some intel about what happened in her life prior to the shooting. It might help me figure out who else could have had beef with her.”

“On your own?” he questioned, his forehead drawn into a frown.

“Yeah,” Chloe said through her last spoon of cereal and got up to place her bowl in the sink. “And I’ve really got to get going or I will be way late. I’ll see you tonight. Pick a movie or even a book, if you want.” In the hallway, she grabbed her jacket and her bag, hurrying through the door and pulling it closed behind her.

Lucifer appeared right in front of her. “Detective, I don’t think you should go talk to Jimmy alone.”

“Well, I don’t have a partner at the moment. And even if I did, I’m investigating this without cause or permission. I need to keep it on the DL, if I want any chance of keeping my job.” She walked past him, jogging down the porch. Hearing his sigh, she threw an “I’ll fill you in later” over her shoulder.

This time, when he suddenly stood before her, she barely avoided running into him. “Please, Detective, this really isn’t a good idea. I know him. Jimmy Barnes might not react all too friendly to being questioned about Delilah.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Chloe threw up her arms. “The only person I could ask is Ella and not only is she just a forensic, but she doesn’t have the time to wander around the city with me.”

“What about on the weekend?”

“Yeah, okay she’d have time on the weekend maybe, but I’m not waiting for that.”

Once again, she stepped around him and kept walking towards the gate.

“Detective!” He was back again.

“Lucifer, I swear I’ll walk through you.”

“Empty threats,” he grinned. “Still, I implore you, don’t go alone. Don’t put yourself in danger for this. Delilah wouldn’t want that.”

Chloe crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Oh yeah? Delilah wouldn’t? Don’t you think you might be projecting?”

“What are you insinuating?”

Chloe groaned dramatically and reached for the gate, leaving him standing in the yard. “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m stating facts.”

When he appeared right in front of her car, Chloe was ready to start yelling at him, but something made her pause. “Hold up. How are you outside the—” She motioned back towards the house and garden.

He glowered but admitted, “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be thrown back in any second now, but I’ll take what time I have to tell you once more how awful of an idea it is to go talk to Jimmy Barnes.”

“I got the message, Lucifer! But he is my only lead at the moment. He is the only one I can think of who could have had any kind of grudge against Delilah. You said it yourself, she left him at the altar.”

“So?”

“So? Lucifer, us humans are a bit fickle about that kind of thing. Especially men like Jimmy Barnes with self-esteem issues. It humiliates them. I can imagine he’d lash out.”

“All the more reason for you to wait until you can at least take Miss Lopez along.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, a habit she’d really picked up ever since making Lucifer’s acquaintance. “How long until the house pulls you back?”

He was about to retort but then hesitated. “Any second, I suppose.”

They both waited, Chloe with annoyance edged in her expression, Lucifer with something akin to confusion. But nothing happened and slowly Chloe’s annoyance made way for surprise. “Are you sure?”

“This is … impossible. I’ve never … Why am I not going back?” He was staring at his own hands, turning his palms first up, then down. “I’ve never been outside the yard this long.”

Chloe was just as stunned. “Maybe you _can_ leave.”

His eyes shot up, suddenly frantic. Stumbling back towards the gate, he shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t—I can’t. This doesn’t … this shouldn’t happen,” he said, and, as he stepped back behind the gate, he disappeared between one heartbeat and the next and Chloe felt her chest tighten uncomfortably. What had just happened?

“Lucifer!” She called towards the house, but she knew it was hopeless. Running her fingers through her hair, pulling several strands out of her ponytail, she decided whether or not to chase after him. In the end, she pulled her phone from her pocket and shot Dan a text. _Sorry, I’ll be late today._ Then she made a run for the house.

She left the key stuck in the lock, hurrying into the hall and through to the living room, then turned on her heel, realizing that this wasn’t where he would go. Taking the stairs two at a time, she rushed up to his room only to find it locked.

“Lucifer!” She knocked on the door. “Please, _please_ , come out. I know you’re probably panicking but we can figure this out.”

The door didn’t open but something else did.

The hatch to the attic above her head lowered itself with a drawn-out squeak of its hinges, revealing a foldable ladder. In any horror movie, Chloe thought, going up there would be a sure death sentence. In this case, she deemed it safe enough, but just what was he doing up there?

Careful of her steps on the ladder, she climbed up into the dark and dusty space. There was no light source save for the small round window facing the front of the house. Dust danced in the sunlight that streamed through it. Furniture covered in cloths and empty picture frames lined the walls. It was only slightly creeping her out.

“Lucifer?” she asked quietly. “Are you here?”

In way of a response she could feel a small gust of wind that passed her, swirling the dust through the air.

“Can you come out? I mean, you don’t have to, I just … I’d rather see you.”

“I’m here, Detective.” His voice was disembodied, coming from everywhere at once but then she saw his person taking shape underneath the window. He was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, his suit still perfectly clean and no dust stains in sight.

Chloe approached him and lowered herself to sit next to him, ignoring the cold that seemed worse than usual. “Are you okay?”

“I apologize for disappearing on you again. I just—” He bared his teeth in a grimace and looked away.

“You were frightened of what it meant.”

“Frightened,” he scoffed dismissively but didn’t deny it.

“It’s okay. Lucifer, look at me.” When he did, she said, “This means you can leave. You don’t have to stay here. Maybe you can move on.”

“I haven't left this place in thirty-two years. Where would I even go?” he huffed. “I don’t think I even want to leave, Detective. Not while I’m—not while I’m stuck like this.”

Chloe bit her lip. He had a point. The truth was that he wouldn’t be welcome anywhere. Where could he go that people wouldn’t bother him? Where could he go without people calling in priests to exorcise him? This place might drive him up the wall sometimes but at least he had his peace here. The only way for him to truly leave would be to move on as in find a way into the afterlife.

“We’ll start small, then.”

He frowned at her. “We?”

“Yes. You didn’t want me to go alone, right? Well, come along, then.”

“You want me to come with you? To … to work?”

Chloe nodded. “Yes. I need a partner, don’t I?”

A slow smile lit up his eyes. "That you do."

* * *

Admittedly, Chloe hadn’t quite thought that through.

As she drove towards the precinct, her nerves started to flare up. How was she even going to start explaining Lucifer? He was sitting next to her in the passenger seat, infinitely tense, as if he feared that any movement would send him straight back. If you ignored that, though, he could pass as human. He had never looked like a ghost from the movies, no pale skin or dark rings under his eyes. He just looked human. Only him not being corporeal set him apart from someone alive. And the constant disappearing act. And possibly the scary-ass visions he could induce.

“Can you stay invisible?” she asked, cringing a little at her own straight-forwardness. “I mean, at the precinct. I don’t know how people will react … to you.”

“You want to hide me away?”

“Not like that. It’s just—what am I going to say?”

“I can speak for myself, if that concerns you.”

“What if someone wants to shake your hand?”

“I’ll refuse them.”

Chloe made a derisive noise. “That’s rude.”

“Better than their hands going through mine.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Chloe took a left turn. “But what about everything else? You can’t open doors, can’t pull out any chairs. People will notice, Lucifer.”

He hummed, then said, “I understand your concern. And I’ve had the same thoughts. I believe, for now, it would truly be best, if I remained unseen.”

“So, you can do that? Just stay invisible?”

“Yes. Though I will warn you, the cold doesn’t go away.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed the cold spots,” Chloe said with a nod. “But I don’t think it will be problem. The AC at the precinct sucks.”

“I’ll keep out of sight, then. And I assure you—Oh, would you look at that, Detective!” he called out, pointing out the window at a digital billboard playing an ad for a perfume brand. “It’s huge!”

Chloe almost laughed at him missing his own innuendo in his excitement. “Is this going to be the Playstation all over again?”

“I’ve never seen a screen that big. And it’s outside,” he replied, his nose almost pressed against the glass of the window, though Chloe guessed it would go through. “What else have you come up with in the last couple of years?” His excited eyes were fixed on her now, awaiting a full disclosure. “More technology?”

“Lucifer, I tried to explain my phone to you but, as we both clearly saw, I don’t know much about the mechanics behind it. Technology isn’t a strong suit of mine. Trixie probably knows more than me at this point.”

“Surely humanity has invented more than the smart phones.”

“I guess. I mean, yes. I just think I’m the wrong person to ask. Maybe Ella can tell you more.”

“All right. I will ask Miss Lopez. Will we see her today?”

“Yes, she should be at the precinct.”

Lucifer hummed. “I’m glad. I did enjoy her enthusiasm. Though, should she try to hug me again, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Chloe could only laugh. He was a child.

Walking into the precinct with an invisible plus one was more nerve-wracking than she had expected. She kept looking over her shoulder, her eyes constantly glancing about the room, as if she would eventually be able to spot him. Lucifer kept quiet for the most part, but she felt the cold he emitted constantly follow her around. Well, almost constantly. It seemed that from time to time he wandered off, the cold gone, and the feeling of his presence diminished. When Chloe walked into the break room, making herself a cup of coffee, she dared to ask, “Are you still here?”

“Yes, I am,” was the answer, Lucifer’s voice closer than she’d expected.

“Ella isn’t here,” Chloe explained, keeping her eyes firmly on her coffee cup. “She’s out at a crime scene. But she’ll probably be back by the time we return from questioning Jimmy.” His hummed approval sounded from all around her.

Back at her desk, she put her files in order, then began sorting through the paperwork others had left for her. Such was the glorious work of someone on desk duty, doing other detectives’ dirty work. Every now and again, the leaves of the little plant on her desk shivered in a ghostly breeze, Lucifer’s cold spot moving around her desk in slow circles.

Dan gave a full-body shiver, when he arrived.

“It’s freezing around here. Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking at her short-sleeved shirt.

“No,” she replied. “It’s not that bad. It’s probably just the AC acting up again.” As if to prove her point, the papers on her desk were ruffled in a small gust of wind. Dan eyed them, a crease between his brows.

“So, um, I heard you’re closing the investigation? Palmetto and all that?”

“Yeah,” Chloe nodded, though apprehension spread in her stomach at the thought of lying to Dan about this. “I guess I am.”

“Okay. That’s good. Maybe you’ll be released from desk duty soon, then,” Dan said and gave an awkward thumbs up, before shuffling back to his desk.

Cold seeped into Chloe from behind and she had the impression Lucifer was leaning into her personal space. Pointedly ignoring it, she powered up her computer and began sifting through databases in search of any and all information about Jimmy Barnes. It wasn’t much of a feat. The name immediately got her a couple of speeding tickets as well as an arrest for drug possession twenty years ago. But, as usual, charges like those didn’t matter much when you had the right kind of money to throw around.

“Are you still there?” she asked, her face kept down lest anyone saw her talking to thin air.

“This question is going to get old very quickly,” Lucifer’s voice said from over her left shoulder. Chloe forced herself not to flinch, every muscle in her body coiled tightly. She was going to get a cramp sooner or later.

“I’ve found Jimmy Barnes’ address. Looks like he’s on the wealthy side of the population.”

“Put slimy down as well. And greedy. And full of himself.”

“I get the picture, thank you.” She changed tabs. “I also found these.” The screen showed several pictures, obviously taken for the press. She heard Lucifer let out something of a growl underneath his breath. “That’s Delilah with Jimmy, isn’t it? These were taken when her album was released.” On the picture at the top Barnes had his arm wrapped around Delilah’s waist, pulling her close. His hand was gripping the fabric of her dress and Chloe shuddered, seeing his leer down Delilah’s cleavage. His Hawaii shirt, slicked back hair, and slacks combo wasn’t doing him any favors. The only thing that wasn’t cheap about his outfit was his watch, a fancy thing that probably cost hundreds of dollars. He should have invested in a suit instead, Chloe thought. “It looks like they were already quite close at that point.”

“Possessive is what he was,” Lucifer hissed.

She pushed her chair back, slowly so she wouldn’t accidentally pass through Lucifer. “Let’s go and talk to him, then. No time like the present.”

She had barely taken two steps when she was rudely pushed back. “Hey, Palmetto Bitch, thought you were on desk duty. Where are you off to? To ruin another family?”

Chloe ducked her head a little but otherwise ignored Paolucci’s snide remarks, opting to just grab her bag and push past him. Luck wasn’t on her side, though. Paolucci grabbed her arm tightly, Chloe thought it might even bruise, and pulled her closer.

“You may have fooled Malcolm for now, but you can’t fool me. You know where snitches usually end up, don’t you?”

Chloe hissed, “Let go of me right this second!” but she hadn’t even gotten the words out, when the temperature around them dropped so rapidly, it shocked her into silence. Paolucci let go of her, his eyes roaming their surroundings, searching for any kind of explanation for the sudden arctic air but finding none.

Chloe decided to take her chance and quickly stepped out of his reach. “Never touch me again.” Then she hastily made way for the stairs, shaking off the nerves that her encounter with Paolucci had stirred. Jogging up the stairs, she called for Lucifer under her breath but didn’t hear his answer, if he gave one. On the upper level, she risked a glance over the railing down into the bullpen. Paolucci had returned to his desk and was frantically hacking around on his keyboard. Chloe mentally gave him the finger and turned away, when she heard him shout.

“Shit! Goddammit!” He’d knocked over his coffee cup, spilling the contents over his desk and lap. Mumbling obscenities, he strode towards the restrooms to go and clean himself up.

Chloe couldn’t help but feel a little bit of glee at his mishap and stepped into the elevator. At the last second a young officer jumped into the cart as well, postponing any talks she wanted to have with Lucifer. Down in the parking garage she finally called out to him again.

“Hey, you there? I think you can stop the invisibility act now.” She froze mid-step when she didn’t get an answer. “Lucifer?”

Everything stayed silent around her. The air void of cold spots. Wonderful, she thought. He’d run off. And just how was she supposed to go look for him? He could be anywhere by now. Huffing in frustration, she got into her car and slammed the door shut. The steering wheel was wonderfully cool against her forehead as she rested her head for a second.

“Were you going to leave without me?”

“Christ, Lucifer!”

He sat in the backseat, grinning at her through the rear-view mirror, as if he’d never been gone. “Really, Detective, I thought we were partners.”

“ _You_ are the one who disappeared.”

“Wrong,” he chastised, suddenly next to her in the passenger seat. “You decided to take the elevator without me, so I opted to wait in the car.”

“Because you were invisible! How was I supposed to know where you were?”

“Well, I accompanied that wanker into the bathroom and made sure the faucet soaked him from head to toe, and then I followed you right away.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “You did what? Lucifer!”

“He was being a right arsehole. He deserved it.”

“Maybe he did but—”

“But what? He’s never going to know I was there. And he certainly won’t make you responsible for it.”

“He just might. He likes to take his anger out on me.”

“And why is that?” His tone turned serious and he regarded her with barely hidden anger in his expression. “Why does he pick on you?”

She waved it off. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not now, Lucifer.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When we’re back at _Dire Oaks_ , then.”

“Fine,” Chloe relented. “Right now, let’s just focus on the case.”

She drove them through the city, taking several alternate routes to avoid any heavy traffic. Lucifer didn’t shut up once. He talked about everything, ranging from things and people he’d seen at the precinct to anything exciting he spotted looking out through his window. Technology fascinated him and so did the change in architecture but what really caught his attention was the current fashion. He began comparing different decades and pointed out returning trends. Chloe was content to listen to him ramble on, her smile growing along with his fascination. She couldn’t imagine what it had to be like, seeing the outside world again after thirty odd years. She thought, she’d be just as excited, had it been her.

Eventually, she pulled up outside a gate in Beverly Hills. Through the bars she could see a driveway leading up to a house that positively screamed money. When she buzzed the intercom, Lucifer vanished from her side but gave a low hum to assure her that he was still right next to her.

“Hello,” she greeted the tinny voice that answered. “My name is Chloe Decker. I’m with the LAPD. I’m here to speak with Jimmy Barnes. Is he available?” It still felt a little wrong to pretend this was an official visit. She had absolutely no jurisdiction, but she reminded herself that she was doing this for Lucifer and ignored the little voice nagging in the back of her head.

The gate opened and she quickly made her way up to the house. Though obviously very expensive, the decor seemed quite tasteful. A woman opened the door and led her into a pompous living room. Chloe immediately backpedaled on that first assessment of tasteful at the sheer number of expressionistic paintings that lined the walls in golden frames. The woman went to fetch Barnes and Chloe cleared her throat, hopefully getting Lucifer’s attention.

“Let me handle this, okay? I know you have some beef with him but let’s not give away our element of surprise just yet. Your knowledge might be a good bargaining chip later.”

“I’d rather just scare the living daylights out of him and make him tell us the truth,” Lucifer hissed, his voice coming from all around her.

Chloe suppressed a shiver. “Maybe next time.”

She didn’t get an answer and opted to take his silence as agreement. Just then a man joined her in the living room. His hair was sparse on his balding head, his suit expensive but somehow ill-fitting. He didn’t smile, his expression mistrustful at best.

“What do the cops want from me, huh? I’ve been clean for years.”

“This isn’t about drugs. Jimmy Barnes, I assume?” Chloe stepped around the couch towards him.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “What’s this about, then?”

“I’m here to ask you about a former client of yours. Delilah?” She watched his every move when she mentioned Delilah’s name, trying to gauge his reaction.

He grew still, then his eyes narrowed. “What about her? She’s been dead for years.”

“Gunned down, yes. The LAPD has found some new evidence in the case, so we’re investigating again. I’ve been told you produced her first and only album?”

“So, what if I did? Doesn’t mean I had anything to do with her death.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just trying to figure out who would have had reason to hurt her. You knew her quite well, didn’t you? Working together, helping her on her way to fame. Did she ever confide in you? About any trouble she might have had?”

Jimmy sneered. “That ungrateful woman didn’t tell me shit.”

_Kssshhhh._

The vintage radio that sat on the shelf had turned on, white noise filling the room. Barnes flinched and stared at it in bewilderment. For a moment, neither him nor Chloe moved but then he went to turn it off before turning back to Chloe, ignoring the incident.

“Delilah had drug problems, okay? So did I for a while. Probably her fault but I won’t point any fingers.”

“That would fit the theory that she was killed in a drug-related incident. The man who shot her was a known drug-dealer.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged. “So, you’ve got your answer. Why dig into it?”

“I can’t disclose any further information, but we have reason to believe that Eddie Deacon was hired to kill Delilah.”

The other man scoffed. “And you think I did it?”

Chloe dared to play her ace. “You had every reason to be angry with her. She left you at the altar, didn’t she?”

Jimmy’s face grew red. “How do you know that? We kept all of it private! Who did she tell?”

“I have a very reliable source.”

He was seething now. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Delilah left me, yes, but I didn’t need her! I rebounded quite well. I have a beautiful wife now and I’m better off not married to that drug-addicted wannabe. Her ex led her down that path and she never got out of it. Actually,” he exclaimed and pointed a finger, “that’s who you should be talking to. That rapper, 2Vile.”

“2Vile?” Chloe had never even heard of him. “He was the one who got Delilah the drugs?”

“In the beginning, yes. After that she got them wherever they were cheap.”

Chloe hummed. “And maybe that set him off. Her not buying from him anymore.”

“That and that she dumped him as well.”

It made sense. At least it was worth looking into. Chloe gave Jimmy Barnes a forced smile. “Thank you for your time. I’ll let you know, if I have any more questions.”

He just waved her off, visibly irritated, and called for the woman Chloe had met earlier to show her out. Back in her car, Lucifer reappeared, his expression showing nothing but wrath.

“You should have let me have a go at him.”

“No, I shouldn’t have. And it’s good that I didn’t. Thank you for holding back.”

“The way he talks about her—”

“Is disrespectful, yes. And he’s so oily I wish I could spray him with a hose, but we need to keep our cool. That’s how police work goes,” Chloe said with emphasis, hoping Lucifer would understand. “If he’s guilty, we’ll find enough evidence to pin him down. But for now, it looks like 2Vile is our best bet.”

“Let’s go find that cretin, then.”

“We will. Let’s go back to the precinct first, though, okay? Run a background check on him, get his address,” Chloe reasoned. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she pulled back onto the road, she asked, “Do you know him, too? 2Vile?”

“No. I’ve not met him. I didn’t know he was Delilah’s ex.”

“Hm, that leaves us with nothing, then. The botched wedding thing with Jimmy was a helpful bit of extra information.”

“Well, excuse me, if I’m not a walking encyclopaedia of her life.”

“Lucifer,” she sighed. “That wasn’t an accusation. I was just thinking out loud.”

He huffed but relaxed a little. “Apologies, Detective. I believe I’m a little on edge.”

“That’s alright. I get it. The case is personal for you. It even is a little personal for me. But we need to look at it as objectively as we can or we’ll never solve it.”

“All right. You’re the expert here, Detective. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a warm smile. “Now, I’m sure Ella will be at work by now. Maybe you can talk to her about all the new things you discovered.”

“Netflix?” He lit up.

“I’m sure she’ll explain it to you.”

They didn’t make it back to the precinct. A call came through barely ten minutes after leaving Jimmy’s property. Chloe accepted it, motioning for Lucifer to stay silent. “Decker?” She listened to the woman babble on the other end for a second. “What? Is she okay?” She’d only registered the words ‘Trixie’ and ‘fight’, too distracted by Lucifer’s jaw dropping at the sight of a Segway. “I’m on my way,” she assured the secretary before hanging up.

“What was that about?”

“We have to make a detour.”

“What?” Lucifer seemed affronted. “But what about 2Vile?”

“Trixie got into a fight at school, I need to pick her up.”

Lucifer grumbled. “Can’t she get herself home?”

“She’s seven! And besides, she’ll have to come back to _Dire Oaks_ with us. Dan isn’t available apparently.”

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go fetch the ungrateful urchin, then.”

Chloe decided to ignore his hostility, opting to just drive. The school wasn’t quite as far as the precinct and they made it within twenty minutes, the traffic thankfully not as bad. Chloe pulled up to the curb a little ways down the street from the school, and put the car in park.

“Okay. Stay here while I go get Trixie.”

“With pleasure. I despise children. One human spawn is more than enough.”

Shaking her head, she got out of the car and crossed the street. She jogged up the stairs to the entrance and, as she pulled the door open, glanced back at the car. Lucifer was watching her from his spot in the passenger seat and made a ‘hurry up’ motion, when he saw her looking back. Chloe couldn’t help the eyeroll.

Inside she hurried along the long corridor towards the office and found Trixie sitting on the bench outside. “Hey, Monkey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“It’s okay, babe. We’ll talk about it in the car. I just have to talk to the teacher real quick.”

She was in and out of the office within five minutes. Apparently, Trixie had kicked a girl but hadn’t started it, so Chloe was inclined to let her get away with it. She took her daughter by the hand and led her outside, only to frown when her eyes fell onto her cruiser. Lucifer was nowhere in sight. Maybe someone had passed the car and he had preferred to stay out of sight.

Still frowning, she waited for a gap in traffic to cross the street and then hurried down the sidewalk until she reached the car. No sign of him.

“All right, get in the back, honey,” Chloe said, then opened the driver’s side door. “Lucifer?”

“He’s here?” Trixie called excitedly.

But Chloe’s frown only deepened. “He was. Just a minute ago.” Ducking back out of the car, she called out a little louder. “Lucifer?”

No answer. Where had he gone? A bad feeling overcame her. If he’d left of his own volition, she’d never find him, and if not … maybe he was back at _Dire Oaks_?

Only one way to find out. She got back in the car. “Put your seatbelt on, Trix.”

“Where is Lucifer?”

“Hopefully back home. We’re going to look for him.”

She might have ignored the speed limit a few times on the way back to the suburbs, but worry was eating away at her. Back home, she barged in the door, her hair a little astray as if she’d run the entire way here.

“Lucifer?!”

“Detective.” His voice was quiet, not quite a whisper but close enough. Relief filled her like a tidal wave. He was sitting on the stairs, curled in on himself and squished into the farthest corner, legs pulled up to his chest. He looked pale, his eyes glassy as they regarded her.

“Oh, thank God, you’re here.” Chloe’s shoulders sagged as she relaxed.

“Yeah, it seems like His doing, doesn’t it?”

“Mom? Did you find him?” Trixie peeked around Chloe’s hip. “Lucifer? Why didn’t you wait for us?”

“I—I wanted to. I couldn’t stay.” He flickered horribly, his form glitching out of reality again and again. Chloe saw him gritting his teeth. Then he settled a little, looking up at her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t control it. Any of it. I—I’m sorry.” And he was gone.

“Lucifer? No, please,” Chloe begged. “Come back. Please. I thought—I thought you were gone. Tell me what happened.”

“The house …” His voice was disembodied, coming from all around. Trixie’s grip on Chloe’s jacket tightened a little but she didn’t cower. “It pulled me back.”

“Please, show yourself, Lucifer.”

“I _can’t_.”

His voice was a growl that made the windows on either side of the door shudder in their frames. His frustration made itself known as the house groaned as if caught in a storm. Chloe fought the sudden urge to grab Trixie and retreat to the front yard. At least out there they wouldn’t be buried under the debris if Lucifer caused the house to cave in.

“Detective.”

He sounded scared, that much was clear. “Lucifer, what’s going on?” Chloe asked, desperation clinging to her voice. “What can I do?”

“I don’t want to—”

“You don’t want what?”

“I don’t …” His voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to disappear.”

“Lucifer?” she called out, panic creeping into her voice.

She didn’t get an answer. He was gone. For the first time since last weekend, he was truly gone, and it was all Chloe’s fault. She’d made him leave the house. She’d caused this.

Trixie pulled on her jacket to get her attention. “Is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. I—I don’t know, Monkey.”

“Can we look for him?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “Yeah, I think we should.”

* * *

They searched the house. Every inch of it. Chloe climbed into the attic and Trixie checked the shed outside. The door to his room didn’t open but Chloe knew that if he was there at all, he’d let her know. In the end, Chloe decided all they could really do was wait.

She began to prepare dinner, while Trixie kept looking, calling out in the yard and searching between the trees. Chloe didn’t have the heart to tell her that she probably wouldn’t find him out there. Not if he was back to being absolutely shapeless like he used to be during the day.

She heard the front door slam as Trixie came back inside. “Mommy!” she called and skipped into the kitchen just as the timer for the lasagne in the oven went off.

“Can you set the table, Monkey?”

“But I found Lucifer.”

Chloe almost dropped the hot dish, but she tightened her grip and placed it safely on the stove top. “You did?”

“He’s outside on the swing. On the porch.”

“Oh,” Chloe murmured. Outside where Delilah had been murdered. But at least he’d reappeared. She considered going to talk to him, but dinner would go cold before she’d even get a straight answer out of him.

“Go, Mom.”

“What?”

“You need to go talk to him,” Trixie said with a shrug. “He needs you.” When Chloe still hesitated, she added, “Don’t worry, I’ll save you some lasagne.”

“Hm, I’ll hold you to that. I’m starving.” Chloe filled up a plate for Trixie, placed it in front of her and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back in a few.”

It was getting darker by the minute, the lamp outside not bright enough to light up the corner of the porch where the Hollywood swing stood, but Chloe could make out Lucifer’s silhouette through the window. He was absolutely still. Tentatively, she opened the door, the hinges squeaking with the slow movement. His head snapped up and the light from the lamp reflected in his eyes for a split second, making them glow an eerie red.

“Hey,” Chloe said softly. “Can I join you?”

He tilted his head to the side but didn’t decline her request, so she approached him and sat down on the swing, trying to move it as little as possible lest it went through him. Lucifer stared straight ahead, his eyes once again fixed on the wooden planks of the porch, seeing something Chloe couldn’t.

“Are you okay?”

He harrumphed. “How could I be, Detective?”

“What happened?”

The wind picked up around them and Chloe had the bad feeling that it wasn’t entirely natural. Lucifer bristled, then let his head roll back. “Isn’t it obvious? It was all some messed-up plot to give me false hope.”

“What was?”

“All of it! Letting me leave. Letting me believe that perhaps I’d broken at least part of this curse. He did this to give me hope only to then crush it in His almighty fist.”

Chloe suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape her. “You think your father is responsible.”

“Of course, He is. Who else could it be?”

“So, you just, what? You were waiting in the car and suddenly you were back here?”

He bared his teeth. “It wasn’t half as pleasant as you make it sound. It was like a hook that buried itself in my gut and pulled and _tore_ at my insides. I tried to resist it. I even went to find you, but it got worse and worse with each second and then—and then I couldn’t fight it anymore.”

“Lucifer …”

“Have you any idea what it’s like to be pulled through space, through _reality_ at that kind of speed?”

“No,” Chloe admitted, voice small. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Well, painful is an understatement. Only Falling was worse.” His fists clenched and unclenched in rapid succession. “When I appeared back here, I couldn’t even … I couldn’t stay. I disappeared again, like … like I used to during the day. I felt like I was losing any and all grip on reality. I was almost completely unaware. Couldn’t feel the house. Couldn’t feel you.”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer.”

“It’s not like it was your fault.”

“Still, I’m sorry you got hurt.”

He hummed dismissively. “I am sorry, too. I didn’t mean to disappear on you or worry you.”

“It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault, Lucifer.”

“Is your spawn all right?”

“Trixie? Oh, yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal. She kicked a girl and got in trouble for it.”

“A fierce little demon, she is.”

“I hope that’s a term of endearment.”

“I’ll simply not tell you otherwise, then.” He sent a grin her way. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was better than the hurt that had been edged into the lines of his face until now.

“Maybe it was a fluke,” Chloe pondered. “Maybe you _can_ leave whenever you want and today was just a bug in a test run, you know?”

“I don’t understand that metaphor. What’s the insect supposed to represent?”

Chloe laughed. “A bug is an error in a computer program. Something that can be fixed. Look, all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t just give up now. We should try again. See how long and how far you can be away from the house.”

“I’d rather avoid a repeat performance of today, thank you.”

“So, you’ll stay here forever? What about my partner? I need him to find Delilah’s true killer.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Surely you don’t need him that badly.”

“Yes. I do. So, please, let’s try again tomorrow.”

He hesitated and Chloe wondered if perhaps she was underestimating just how much being pulled back had actually hurt him if he was this reluctant to try again. But then, he nodded. “Very well, Detective. We’ll give it another chance. But for now, let’s not talk about this any longer.”

“Do you want to come inside?”

He didn’t answer right away as he regarded her contemplatively. But then, “Will you put on Delilah’s record?”

Chloe raised her brows in surprise. “You want … yes, of course. I’ll put it on. I wanted to listen to it, anyways.”

“You’re in for a treat, then.”

He vanished from her side, but Chloe immediately heard her daughter’s delighted squeal as he appeared inside. Chloe got up to follow him but paused at the door. Reaching out, she moved the _Welcome_ sign to the side, its string barely hanging on to the rusty nail it was attached to. Behind the sign she found a dark hole the size of a quarter. The wood around the tiny hole was splintered but someone had sanded it to smooth out the rough edges. This tiny hole told a gruesome story, one that someone had tried to cover up just like they’d covered up the hole. Well, Chloe would do her best to uncover it.

Trixie’s giggles broke her out of her reverie and Chloe hastily put the sign back in its place before returning to the living room. Trixie was sitting on the floor next to the shelf of records, piles and piles of them stacked around her.

“What about this one? It has a funny man on the cover.”

“Only you would call John Lennon a funny man,” Lucifer countered. “And no, as it happens, I’ve already made my pick.”

“Why don’t I get to choose?” Trixie pouted.

Before Lucifer could start an argument, Chloe jumped in. “Because it’s Lucifer’s house, so he gets to pick the music. And he asked me very nicely to put on this one.” She held up Delilah’s album.

“Well, at least it has a pretty lady on the front. It’s a good choice, Lucifer.” Trixie held up her hand for Lucifer to high five it, then quickly thought better of it. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it, child.”

Chloe turned the record player on, carefully placing the vinyl on the turntable. Lucifer had been right. Delilah’s voice was beautiful. She really had had talent. It made her early demise all the more sad.

Chloe finally got around to plating herself some of the lasagne. It wasn’t all cold and she ate with gusto. Lucifer just sat and listened, his eyes closed, while Trixie sifted through the music collection. When the A side came to an end, Lucifer stirred.

“You may choose the next one, urchin. But choose wisely. This won’t be a common occurrence.”

Trixie was delighted. She immediately held up _Electric Light Orchestra_ , undoubtedly because of the spaceship adorning the cover. Lucifer approved her choice with a short nod and asked Chloe to put it on. The upbeat music put Chloe in a wonderful mood, forgetting about the stressful day they’d had. Trixie soon pulled her off the chair, inviting her to dance.

“Will you teach me the dance you showed me?” Trixie asked.

“I can try. But I might be a bit rusty.”

“What’s this?” Lucifer perked up. “What dance?”

“Mommy can dance Rock,” Trixie stated proudly.

Chloe couldn’t help but giggle a little. “I can dance Rock ‘n Roll, yes. Well, it’s mostly Lindy Hop. I had to learn it for an audition and I never even got the part.”

“I want to learn how to dance, too, when I’m a little bigger,” Trixie proclaimed. “And I want to wear the pretty dresses.”

“You’d be a wonderful ballroom dancer, Monkey.”

Lucifer had remained silent, but he was regarding them both fondly as they danced, silly and uncoordinated as it was. “What wouldn’t I give to dance with you, Detective.”

Chloe slowed down. His expression was melancholic, but he smiled at her when she looked at him. Her stomach did a somersault and she could feel her cheeks redden, so she looked away. The truth was, yes, she wished she could dance with him as well. If only to make him happy. “Come here, then,” she said before she could stop herself.

“I beg your pardon?”

She went back to the record player, flipped the record and carefully repositioned the needle until it began playing _Mr. Blue Sky_. Turning the volume up, she turned around and motioned for Lucifer to get up from the couch. “Dance, then. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“You can’t be serious, Detective.”

“Yes, dance, Lucifer!” Trixie agreed, already hopping through the room to the beat.

“And look like a complete lunatic? No, thank you.”

“Loosen up a little.” Chloe closed the distance between them and shimmied a little before him. His smile grew and it was only the tiniest bit inappropriate. “You better appreciate this, Lucifer. I don’t dance. Like ever. At least not in public.”

“Well, this is the least public it can get,” he observed with his arms encompassing the room. He got up and stepped closer, mirroring her shimmy. “I suppose, I can get behind a little dancing. But I’ll have you know, I’m not usually this hands-off.”

“I believe that.”

And they danced. Chloe thought, for anyone watching them from the window, it had to look so very _normal_. Just normal people enjoying their time together, being silly together, forgetting about life together. She laughed that evening, more than she could remember laughing in a long time. She spun around in circles, Trixie holding on to her hands, her delight contagious in a way only a child’s could be.

Like this, life felt wonderful.

Trixie fell asleep on the couch that night and Chloe knew, if she tried to move her, she’d wake up immediately. So, she pulled a blanket over her and kissed her forehead before retreating upstairs to her own bedroom. Lucifer bid her goodnight at the bottom of the stairs, disappearing in a flicker of movement.

Chloe fell asleep quickly, a bone-deep exhaustion settling over her as soon as she let her head rest on the pillow. Her dreams were filled with light and music, the records from that evening continuing to play inside her mind’s subconscious. When she woke suddenly, she didn’t know why. Had there been a noise downstairs?

“Detective?”

She didn’t startle as badly as she usually did. Rolling over she found him standing at her bedside. His silhouette was hard to make out in the dark and she had to blink a couple times until her eyes adjusted.

“Lucifer. What is it?”

He hesitated, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other. Apparently, there was something he needed to get off his chest. Chloe pushed herself up onto her elbows and patted the bed next to her. “Sit down?” she asked and watched his shoulders sag a little before he acquiesced.

Carefully, he lowered himself onto the other side of the mattress. It didn’t dip under his weight.

“I—thank you,” he said finally.

“For what?”

“Tonight was … I enjoyed myself a lot.”

She smiled at him warmly. “So did I, Lucifer. And I’m sure Trixie had a blast as well.”

“I—” He swallowed before starting anew. “I didn’t think, when you arrived here, that I could ever enjoy your presence as much as I am. It’s … it’s less lonely.”

Chloe didn’t know how to respond. Still struggling to make out his face, she reached for the lamp on the nightstand and flicked it on. Lucifer wasn’t looking at her, awfully interested in the seam of the comforter. “Lucifer, look at me.” When he did, his expression was guarded. “Lucifer, I’m glad I met you. And I’m grateful you let me stay here.”

“I’m grateful you stayed. After I scared you.” Lucifer took a deep breath. “Chloe, thank you for being here. For not leaving me.”

Chloe only nodded, unable to find the right words. What was there to say? In the end, she lay down again, her eyes never leaving him. He watched her, cautiously, as he lowered himself as well, lying on his side, mirroring her. They remained silent. Only watching each other.

She didn’t know what made him do it, but Lucifer slowly reached out, his hand hovering in the air between them, fingers trembling slightly. Chloe raised her hand towards his, until their palms were only an inch apart. Then a hair’s breadth. Somehow it didn’t feel cold. Chloe held her breath and for the longest moment they stayed like that.

When she dared to try, her palm went right through his, his long piano fingers never touching her skin.

Chloe breathed in, meeting Lucifer’s eyes. He just pulled his hand away and was gone in an instant.

Her fingers tingled all through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not my fault. The universe simply doesn't want them to cuddle.


	10. The Devil and the Detective

“Tell me about that idiot at the precinct?”

They were sitting on the window seat in the kitchen as Chloe sipped from her coffee, a bowl of cereal balanced precariously on her leg. Lucifer had both legs up on the cushion next to her, taking up as much space as possible without risking accidentally passing through her. Their conversation this morning had been stilted at first, the night before still on both of their minds, but the awkwardness had quickly evaporated when Lucifer slid back into his usual chatter.

Chloe had known he wouldn’t let this particular topic slide. After all she’d promised to tell him about Paolucci. Glancing over at Lucifer, she took another spoonful of her cereal, chewing and swallowing, all the while feeling his eyes on her.

She cleared her throat. “Well, his name is Anthony Paolucci. He’s a detective. He … doesn’t exactly like me.”

“Oh, please, Detective, that’s the understatement of the century. He full-on harassed you.”

“There was this case,” Chloe began slowly, trying to put events in order. “I witnessed a shooting on Palmetto street. Another detective, Malcolm Graham, was involved. I was following this guy, Nikolas Aoudi, a drug trafficker. I’d been on his trail for months, but I never got enough dirt on him. The only cop Aoudi would talk to was Malcolm and I figured there was something else going on. And I’m still pretty sure I’m right. Malcolm’s a corrupt cop. I just never managed to gather enough evidence to prove it.”

“So, you accused him. That’s why that complete imbecile thought it appropriate to bully you?” His brows rose in disbelief.

“That’s not all.” Chloe dropped her spoon into the bowl and set it aside. “Malcolm got shot on scene. I don’t exactly know what happened. He was meeting with Aoudi and his bodyguard, exchanging goods for money as far as I could tell. Or maybe they were making some kind of deal. I hid but I made a noise; Malcolm noticed me and suddenly all hell broke loose.”

“Oh, I would have liked to see that,” Lucifer said salaciously. “Did you shoot him, then?”

“No!” Chloe said vehemently. “No, I didn’t. But I don’t know who did, either. By the time I came out from my cover, Aoudi and his bodyguard were dead, and Malcolm was on the ground bleeding out. It must have been Aoudi, I mean, there was no one else there.”

Lucifer frowned. “I still don’t understand. You didn’t do anything wrong. How does this lead to you being harassed at the precinct?”

“It’s what happened after that’s the problem,” Chloe mumbled. “Malcolm was in a coma. For quite a while. And I, stubborn as ever, never dropped my accusations. I kept investigating him even as he was fighting for his very life. The LAPD is still very much a man’s world. The fact that I was investigating one of their own … it immediately made me the outcast.” Chloe met Lucifer’s eyes for the first time since she’d started her explanation. “I still am. Even worse, the captain is very friendly with Malcolm’s family, so he pulled some strings and now, as you may have noticed, I am on permanent desk duty and I might even lose my rank as detective. Which,” she announced, both hands thrown up, “brings us full circle, because the only reason I’m here is that I couldn’t afford my apartment anymore with the reduced pay and had to vacate it. Now I’m unsuccessfully house hunting while simultaneously trying to solve a murder from thirty years ago with a ghost as my partner.” She buried her face in both hands and sighed heavily. “My life is a mess.”

“I believe you left out the word _handsome_ right before _partner_ , there, Detective.”

“Lucifer,” she groaned. “No.”

“You sound like you need a pick-me up, Detective.”

“Yeah, ‘cause alcohol is going to solve all my problems.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try. There’s a really nice Macallan behind the books on the top shelf in your bedroom. And I’m not sharing this information lightly. I was saving that particular bottle for when I finally make it out of here.”

Chloe lifted her head to look at him. He was grinning from ear to ear, obviously trying to cheer her up. She dropped her head again. “Keep saving it, then.”

“Come now, Detective. Moping won’t help the situation.”

“And what will?”

“Well, for starters, I’d say trust your notable instincts and don’t let them bully you into closing the investigation. If you believe he’s guilty, then we’ll find the proof you need. Now, this Malcolm fellow,” Lucifer drawled and leaned forward. “You’re saying he woke from the coma?”

“Yes, last week. He’s still recovering. I told him I stopped investigating and that I’ll close the case. So far, I haven’t because I’m hoping something will turn up that proves me right. But I’m grasping at straws.”

“But he would know the truth, wouldn’t he? About what happened? About who shot him?”

Chloe sat up straight. “Yes. But if he admitted that, he’d also have to admit to his shady deals. He won’t do it.”

“I could be of assistance, don’t you think?”

“And what exactly would you do? Scare him into a confession? Even if you weren’t a ghost, it wouldn’t stand in court.”

“No, no, no.” Lucifer shook his head. “I have a certain skill set that could be of use. As the Devil, people like to tell me things. All their nasty little desires.”

“Like, mind control? You can do that?” Chloe seriously had to do some research on what ghost were and weren’t supposed to be able to do. It seemed she really had no clue at all. “Wait. Can you, like, possess people?”

His expression darkened. “I banned possession years ago.”

“Okay …”

Lucifer rolled his shoulders, loosening up again. “I haven’t actually had the chance to test whether my powers work in this state. Would you mind a test run?”

Chloe huffed out a laugh. “What? On me? You want to test your freaky powers on me?”

“Only if you volunteer.”

Chloe sighed and shrugged. “What do I have to lose? Go ahead.”

Lucifer’s grin grew from salacious to downright predatory as he suddenly leaned forward into her space. His eyes were fixed on hers unblinkingly. “Tell me, Detective, what is it you desire?”

Chloe waited a beat. When nothing else happened, she asked, “That’s it?”

He deflated a bit. “I guess that’s a no on the powers working, then. Never mind, Detective. We’ll just have to find another way to get the truth out of him, then.”

“You really want to help me with this?”

“What are partners for?” He pushed his tongue into his cheek suggestively. “Except for the fun bedroom activities that is.”

“Ugh, gross, Lucifer.”

He took her disgust in stride, leaning back, both hands behind his head. “Where do we start, then?”

Chloe surveyed him. Was she actually going to do this? She’d been so close to calling it quits, ending the investigation, giving in. That way, at least she’d have a bigger chance at keeping her job. This, however, digging deeper … it could lose her her job entirely. “Are you willing to try and leave the house again?” she asked him.

“Where to, Detective?”

“I want to go back to Palmetto Street. There has to be an explanation for what I saw. I just need to piece it together.”

“Back to the scene of the crime it is.” Lucifer seemed downright excited.

“Are you sure?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “If I don’t dare, I can only lose.”

“Let’s give it a test run, first, okay?” She found herself concerned for his wellbeing if he were to be yanked back to the house once more. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself over this.”

“Detective, you do care for me after all.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot.”

“That’s debatable.”

They found themselves outside at the gate not much later. Although he’d seemed almost giddy to try this again, now Lucifer was keeping a safe distance from the fence that separated the outside world from his little home. He eyed the gate warily as Chloe pushed it open.

“How far do you want to go?”

“The other side of the street should suffice, shouldn’t it?”

“We’re doing this at your pace. You choose how far and how long, okay?”

“Very well.” He straightened the sleeves of his jacket and then strode through the open gate. Hesitating on the other side, he glanced over his shoulder back at her, then kept going.

Chloe followed him. “Seems to be going okay so far.”

“Give it a minute before we celebrate any premature wins.”

They stood under the willow at the end of the street, waiting. After three minutes, Lucifer officially declared it to be much like the last time: he wasn’t being pulled back right away.

“Right. How long was it last time? We left at around seven in the morning and I picked up Trixie shortly after noon. So, that was a five-hour time window in which you weren’t pulled back.”

“Well, you ought to get a picnic blanket, if you’re planning on spending the next five hours under this tree.”

Chloe scoffed. “You can’t even eat anything. Besides, I can’t stay that long. I have a parent-teacher thing to go to.” She looked down at her watch. “Which I need to leave for any minute now.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Sorry,” Chloe said, ducking her head. “I should have said something. But I won’t be gone long. We can go to Palmetto Street when I’m back. If you’re ready for it then.”

He nodded vaguely. “Very well. I suppose I can do the waiting bit by myself.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She quickly checked her jacket pocket for her keys before leaving Lucifer’s side, striding over to her cruiser and throwing a “see you in a few” over her shoulder.

Driving away, she saw him raise his hand in a small wave, his back resting against the tree, looking almost dejected at seeing her leave. Chloe would have denied speeding a little to get back to him faster.

* * *

She arrived back at _Dire Oaks_ after the most pointless parent-teacher meeting she’d ever endured only to find Lucifer gone.

“Lucifer?” she called into the house as she pushed open the front door. “I’m back!”

There was no answer. She glanced back outside. Maybe he was strolling around the yard somewhere, trying to pass the time. But she didn’t spot him between the trees.

Closing the front door, Chloe climbed the stairs, calling out his name once more. “You up here?” The upstairs hallway remained silent as she approached his room. The door stood open, the baby grand on full display. Without Lucifer sitting on the bench the instrument looked infinitely lonely. Chloe stepped inside and then carefully lowered herself in the spot Lucifer usually sat, her fingers hovering above the keys. She pressed the middle C just hard enough for the hammer to tease a note from the string. It rang through the room as she held the key.

When his cold seeped into her from her right side, she knew he was next to her. A moment later he appeared.

“Hey, Lucifer,” she said quietly. “Where were you?”

“Around. As always.” His tone was harsh, the short sentences proof of his irritation.

“Did … did something happen?”

He grimaced. “As a matter of fact, something _did_ happen.”

“What is it?”

The hiss he let out could have been a word, but Chloe had never heard anything like it, the language entirely unfamiliar. He vanished right after, only to reappear on the window seat, staring out over the backyard. She shivered a little as the cold spread through the room, the window next to him slowly gathering condensation.

“Lucifer?” She got up and joined him by the window but didn’t sit down. Small frost patterns had started growing in the corner of the windowpane. “What happened?”

“It didn’t work,” he growled out.

“What didn’t?”

“I tried staying outside the yard, but it was just like before. It took only a couple of moments before I was forced right back here.”

“But earlier—”

“Yes, _earlier_.” He glowered at her and she actually took a step back. “ _Earlier_ when _you_ were here with me. Last time when we left _together_. It’s an odd little pattern, don’t you think? But a pattern nonetheless.”

“What … what do you mean?”

She shrieked when he suddenly stood right before her, his eyes black as night and filled with fury. “It’s you, Detective! It’s always been you!”

“Lucifer—”

“How is it that when I’m with you, I can leave this place? Who are you? What are you?”

“I’m no one. I’m just me. This isn’t my doing.”

“Yet when you left me alone in the car back at your spawn’s school, I was ripped back here immediately.”

Chloe swallowed hard. He was right. The only times he’d been able to leave the house and yard was when she’d been with him. But that had been twice now and, as everyone knew, two was a coincidence, three was a pattern. “We don’t know that. Not without further proof.”

“You and your proof, Detective. I believe I’ve seen enough proof that you are the trigger every time something changes. Or have you forgotten that I’ve stopped disappearing during the day. That happened because of you as well, don’t you think?”

Chloe cringed. Yeah, that might make it a pattern. “Still, I think we should test it, just to be sure.” He scoffed and backed off. Chloe could breathe a little easier without him looming over her and she counted to ten, trying to get her thoughts in order, before she addressed him again. “Lucifer, I don’t know why this is happening to you. I don’t know what I’m doing to cause these changes. But I promise you, Lucifer, I don’t mean you any harm. I don’t mean for these things to happen.”

Lucifer turned back to look at her. His expression was unreadable, the fury hadn’t quite abated, yet, though. For a few moments all they did was regard each other. Then Lucifer turned away. “Whatever the reason, I’m sure my Father is behind it.”

Chloe felt like yelling, but she forced her voice to remain calm. “Look, Lucifer, all I can do is promise you that I’m not intentionally doing anything. And I won’t force you to leave with me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She wanted to say more but he interrupted her, his voice quiet as he still faced the window. “I do want to.”

“You want what?”

“Leave with you to work your case.”

She raised her brows. “You still want to come to Palmetto Street with me?”

“Of course, I do. I said I would, so I will.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Are you angry with me, though? For whatever is happening?”

He growled out a word and this time Chloe was sure it was another language. Turning around, he fixed her with a calculating stare. “I’m not angry with you. But I won’t deny that I am angry.”

She nodded, her eyes roaming over the windowpane that was now fully covered in frost patterns. “Maybe we can get your mind off it, then. After Palmetto, how about we go pay 2Vile a visit and ask him about Delilah?”

She saw his eyes light up the tiniest bit and knew she’d won him over. He hummed non-distinctly, then nodded. “Lead the way.”

He followed her. Out of the house and all the way to her car. She turned the heating all the way up to chase away his cold as the radio cheerily played _The Free Electric Band_. It took him a minute, but he did start humming along.

* * *

“So, this is Palmetto Street.” With a frown Lucifer eyed an empty can of soda that lay on the ground and wandered further into the room. “What exactly do you think we’ll find here?”

Chloe looked around, taking in the scene. The place was gathering dust but apart from that it looked just like she remembered it. It felt surreal being back here with Lucifer in tow. Then again, going anywhere with a ghost as your companion would tip the scales towards weird.

“I don’t know,” Chloe murmured in response, eyes wandering over the boxing ring and towards the door where she’d hidden when everything had gone to hell. “I just want to take another look around. Look at the scene from a different angle maybe.”

“Hm,” he hummed and disappeared.

Chloe paid him no mind. As long as he didn’t wander too far, he hopefully wasn’t at risk of being pulled all the way back across LA to _Dire Oaks_. In an attempt to recreate the scene, she picked up the empty can and an abandoned hand weight and placed them where she remembered Malcolm and Aoudi standing. Then she retreated towards the doorway to look at the scene from her original perspective.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?” Lucifer asked over her shoulder, appearing from thin air.

“Malcolm got shot. Aoudi and his bodyguard did, too. I saw Malcolm pulling his gun—well, at least I think it was his gun. So, he should have been the one to shoot first, right?”

“Maybe he did and he simply missed.”

“Or he didn’t and got shot first.” Chloe paced back to where she’d placed the can. “So, Aoudi shot Malcolm—”

“Why would he?”

“Excuse me?”

Lucifer pushed both hands in the pockets of his suit and strolled over to her. “Malcolm was Aoudi’s inside man. His golden ticket. The ace up his proverbial sleeve. He wouldn’t have any desire whatsoever to shoot Malcolm. Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s desire.”

She pressed her fingertips against her temples. “You’re right. He wouldn’t. But there was no one else here. I would have seen them.”

“From your hiding spot?”

“Well, maybe not, but there’s only one exit. I would have seen them leave,” Chloe said, turning on the spot, desperately trying to piece it together. Then, suddenly, it all clicked. “But what if there was another exit?”

“What, you think someone would voluntarily crawl through that rat-infested secret passageway underneath the ring?”

“Think about it, Lucifer—wait, what did you say?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her and teleported into the boxing ring. Tapping his foot without any sound whatsoever, he glanced downward meaningfully. “So very handy these trapdoors.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped and she hurried to climb into the ring with him, pulling the mat away. Lucifer was right. A trapdoor, square in the middle of the ring. “Where does it lead?” she asked Lucifer. “And how did you know it was there?”

He just shrugged. “I took a look around. Architectural experiments like this one usually fail to escape your attention when you can walk through walls. As to where it leads, it connects to an old prohibition tunnel, which it turn leads out to the street.”

“This could be it!” Chloe exclaimed, then crouched to heave open the trapdoor. “Help me lift this—never mind, I’m stupid. I got this.” With a little trouble she managed to stem the door open. The first thing that assaulted her was the smell. It was damp and mouldy. She pulled a face. “Okay, I get what you mean. I wouldn’t voluntarily go down there. But needs must, I guess.”

She climbed down the rusty ladder, carefully placing her feet on the tiers until she reached the bottom. It was dark, too dark to see. Chloe fumbled for her phone and turned on the flashlight, flinching horribly when she came face to face with Lucifer.

“Jesus, be little less creepy next time, okay.”

“Wrong deity, but sure, I’ll give it a try,” he quipped before disappearing down the tunnel

Chloe followed at a slower pace and eventually turned a corner. At the end of the tunnel she could see light—she knew Lucifer would appreciate the pun behind that thought—and hurried towards it. It was a dead end leading up towards the street, just like Lucifer had said. She could hear the traffic above her, only the tiniest bit of light filtering through the storm drain hatch overhead.

“Great,” she sighed. “This doesn’t prove anything, does it?” she asked, and Lucifer appeared next to her.

“Well, it does make your theory a little bit more believable. But if you were hoping for definite proof, this isn’t it.”

“Not even close,” Chloe agreed and turned to make her way back down the tunnel. That was when the flashlight of her phone glinted off something on the dirty ground. She crouched to take a closer look and couldn’t believe her own eyes. “Lucifer?”

“Did you find a penny?”

Chloe only held up the key in answer. “It’s a 999 key. LAPD issued.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows rose, then a predatory smile spread across his face. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Another cop was here,” Chloe nodded. “And whoever it was shot Malcolm.”

She didn’t know whether she imagined it, but for a moment Lucifer’s eyes glinted red in the dark. “Meaning we’ve got a bad guy to catch.”

Chloe nodded grimly. “I’ll see what I can find out once we get back to the precinct.” She met his gaze in the dark. “But first, it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“I believe we owe 2Vile a visit. This can wait until tomorrow.” She held up the key before pocketing it. “Come on, I don’t want to stay down here any longer than absolutely necessary.”

Back in the car, Chloe pulled out her phone and conducted a quick Google search on 2Vile. Two clicks later she found his real name, James Price, and sent Dan a text, asking him to get her an address. Which he did, surprisingly without complaint.

As they drove along the highway a couple minutes later, Lucifer frowned at her from the passenger seat. “Are you sure we’re going the right way? I think you just missed that turn.”

Chloe shook her head. “We’re taking a little detour. That okay?”

“I suppose so. Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He glanced at her. “I don’t know if I like surprises.”

“We’ll find out, then. Now, any song suggestions? I can put on whatever you want.”

“You pick.”

He obviously disapproved of her choice of 90s jams, but he didn’t complain. Not vocally at least. He glared at the radio from time to time, only serving to make Chloe laugh. Eventually, Chloe pulled the cruiser over to the curb. They got out of the car—Chloe using the door and Lucifer by simply teleporting—and Chloe watched him closely as he took in their surroundings. He seemed a bit starstruck.

“I was thinking, since you get out so little, we could take a walk on the beach,” she explained. It was a terribly windy day, the waves crashing onto the shore with vengeance, and not many people on the beach. Especially not at this beach. The pretty beaches with the soft sand and shallow waters were further south than the spot she’d picked. This way maybe Lucifer could stay visible, even among strangers.

“You took me to see the ocean?” Lucifer finally brought forth.

“Yeah. I thought maybe you’d like it. If it’s dumb just say the word. We can go question 2Vile—”

“No, it’s a wonderful idea,” he intercepted her. “I’d love to.”

“Great, then let’s go.”

They made their way down the beach, Chloe stomping through the sand barefoot and huffing a little by the time they reached the shore where the sand wasn’t as deep. Lucifer didn’t even seem to notice. It was weird to see him walk on sand. No footprints, for one thing, but also, he didn’t quite sink into it. He sort of just … floated. From further away, she didn’t think anyone would be able to notice but it did look very strange.

“I haven’t seen the ocean since I landed on Earth,” Lucifer spoke up. “I never really cared to go to the beach after washing up here. I had better things to do, I thought. So many new things to experience. The ocean just seemed … trivial. But I believe I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“My Father created everything. And I never much cared for any of it after my Fall. Mostly because I was too bitter to admit it was beautiful, I guess. But the ocean … it _is_ beautiful. It’s eternal in a way that few things are.”

Chloe looked out over the waves and tried to take it all in. She’d grown up here and as a kid she thought the ocean was endless and that she could sail out there and never find another shore. In a way, that still rang true, she thought, when you looked out over the water. “Sometimes you say things …” She shook her head and looked at him from the side. “You say things that make me feel incredibly small next to you. And then I remember what a goof you are.”

“Now, now, Detective. Don’t sully the moment. You were doing so well,” he chastised but the smile on his face grew wider.

“So, I gather, you like the ocean.”

“I do. Thank you for taking me.”

“Anytime,” she promised.

He looked happy, almost as if she’d promised to free him from his so-called curse. And maybe she was, in a way, freeing him. After all, moving on from Delilah and moving on into the afterlife would set him free. Chloe had no idea what awaited him, but she hoped it would be better than being stuck at _Dire Oaks_ , lonely and doomed to watch everyone else live their lives. If there was such a thing as Heaven, Chloe wanted him to see it and be happy. She couldn’t take that from him.

So, she really only had one option.

“Come on, let’s go and figure out what 2Vile had to do with Delilah. I’m sure we can dig something up.”

* * *

The ex-rapper didn’t seem to lack money judging by the size of his little estate, but, much like Jimmy Barnes’, Chloe found the decor a little overdone.

Lucifer, who’d been flickering in and out of view throughout the whole drive, whether it was nerves or agitation, finally settled a bit, when they pulled up to the house. “Do you want me to hide, Detective? As you speak to him?”

Chloe considered it. “Yeah, I think it’s better if no one sees you.”

He simply nodded and faded out of view. “I’ll be right behind you,” he assured her, when he was already gone.

When Chloe was led into the spacious living area of the estate, 2Vile, or rather Mr. Price, wasn’t alone. Three other black men sat with him on the circular couch in the middle of the room. When Chloe approached, they turned and regarded her with suspicion. She spotted at least two guns tucked into the waistbands of dark jeans. Taking a deep breath, she decided to play this as cool as she could.

“Are you Mr. Price, formerly known as 2Vile?”

“Depends who’s asking, Miss.”

“Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD.”

“In that case, yes, I am. Though, technically there’s no formerly about it. I stand by my music, even if I’ve outgrown it by now.”

Chloe gave him a smile. “So, you’ve outgrown the drugs, too?” She’d known it was ballsy to attack him this outright, but it was a good way to gauge his temper.

His brows immediately drew together. “What are you accusing me of, lady?”

“It’s Detective Decker. And I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m simply asking.”

“That was over twenty years ago.”

“More like thirty. Thirty-two years ago, to be exact.”

2Vile sat up straighter, anger sparking in his eyes. His companions grew agitated as he made to get up and one man’s hand shifted towards his gun. 2Vile held up a hand, stopping him. “Is this about Delilah?”

“It is.”

“I had nothing to do with her death,” he yelled, now standing and stepping forward. Two of his men followed.

But Chloe didn’t back down. “From what I’ve heard, you were her drug dealer for a while. That true?”

“So, what if it was?”

“I’m not trying to arrest you for any drugs, Mr. Price. I just want to figure out what really happened to Delilah.”

He scoffed. “She was shot. That’s it.”

“I don’t believe that’s the whole story.”

“Yeah, well, the other Detective did.” He said the word detective like someone would say cockroach, Chloe thought, noting his obvious distaste for cops.

“Did Detective Walsh interview you when he was working the case?”

“No, not him. The other one. His partner.”

Chloe frowned. “He didn’t have a partner on that case.”

“Well, he did. That creep came snooping around here, wanted to know how close I was to Delilah. Asked me all these questions about any other relationships she’d been in and who knew about the drugs. I didn’t know much, and I told him that it was none of his business anyway. He didn’t like that much. Gave me a bloody nose. Now, isn’t that illegal?”

“Yeah, little bit,” Chloe conceded. “Do you remember his name?” She pulled out her notepad, ready to jot it down.

“Something French,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Like, Normandeau or something.”

Chloe’s grip on her pen tightened, the inky dot she’d made probably already bleeding through the paper. “Normandy?”

“Yeah, yeah, that one. Total asshole he was.”

The captain. Jacob Normandy. Her condescending prick of a captain had worked Delilah’s case back in the day, but there was absolutely no record of it. Had he helped to sweep all of it under the rug? Was he possibly just as corrupt as Malcolm?

“Okay, Mr. Price. I need you tell me everything you can remember about the investigation, especially about Normandy’s role in all of it.”

“I ain’t telling you anything,” he spat. “You cops are all the same. Trying to pin this on me, bitch?!”

Chloe felt the cold spot that had remained at her back this entire time move. Then the couch including the guy that was still sitting on it suddenly lurched sideways. Immediately guns were drawn. Yelps sounded. 2Vile shrieked as the couch moved towards him and he tried to back away, but there was no escape. The massive couch slammed him into the wall, pinning him there. Chloe was frozen in her spot, watching in horror as Lucifer flickered into view, the couch between him and 2Vile.

The next moment two shots were fired.

Chloe screamed, already seeing Lucifer fall before her inner eye. But the bullets passed through him, making him flicker violently, but he didn’t let himself be deterred.

“You don’t speak to her that way!” he roared, and Chloe felt his voice rattle her bones.

“Lucifer,” she breathed but still couldn’t move.

“What the hell, man?” 2Vile whimpered. “What the hell?”

“Quite an astute observation,” Lucifer rumbled and in the blink of an eye only a few inches remained between him and 2Vile. The latter shrieked and whimpered and then—he screamed.

That unfroze Chloe. “Lucifer, stop!”

As she hurried over to Lucifer, 2Vile’s companions opted for flight, one of them even leaving his gun behind in his hurry to get the hell away from Lucifer. With good reason, Chloe thought. Her hindbrain had some strong opinions about approaching Lucifer, but she vehemently shoved them deep down into a tiny box and taped it shut for good measure.

2Vile was blabbering hectically, words spewing forth from his mouth so rapidly that Chloe barely made out half of it. Only one thing he made abundantly clear. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know! Please, _please,_ anything. Just don’t hurt me!”

“Lucifer,” Chloe said, kneeling on the couch to be between Lucifer and 2Vile. Lucifer’s gaze was ice cold, but it softened marginally when their eyes met. “Lucifer, please, let him go.”

He tilted his head slightly to the left, as if he couldn’t possibly understand why he should do that, then he flickered once and backed away. 2Vile managed to push the couch away, only a few inches, but at least he could breathe now. He was still staring at Lucifer, eyes wide. His entire body was shaking. “What the fuck, lady?” he said but it was more of a croak, his voice unsteady.

Chloe opted to ignore what had just happened in favor of getting answers and then getting the hell out of here. She would be incredibly lucky, if this didn’t come back to bite her in the ass. “Will you tell us what we want to know?”

“Yes,” he nodded instantly. “Just get that—that demon away from me!”

Lucifer scoffed and turned away as Chloe pulled out her notepad again and said, “Then tell me what you remember about Captain Normandy. Well, Detective Normandy back then.”

And he did. 2Vile spilled everything he knew and that was quite a bit. Apparently, Normandy had been known in certain circles as the cop who would gladly turn a blind eye on drug deals as long as he got his fair share of the product. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this case had been swept under the rug, then. Not if it was thought to be drug related and the one doing the sweeping was involved with drugs himself.

Chloe hurried to leave as soon as 2Vile was done recounting the events and the ex-rapper seemed more than happy about seeing her go. He gave a shriek when Lucifer disappeared, and stayed frozen at the wall, his gaze flying around the room hectically.

“Thank you, Mr. Price. We’ll be out of your hair now.”

All she got in response was a whimper.

“He was hiding something. Normandy, I mean. He was trying to keep his own name out of it,” Chloe mused when they were back in the car. “Maybe he knew the shooter, had bought drugs from him. If Walsh would have started to dig deeper, he might have come upon Normandy’s name. It was too risky. So,” Chloe deduced, “he tried his best to get Walsh to just shut the case.”

“Sounds plausible. But you can’t prove any of it,” Lucifer said. “He’s your captain now. Investigating him would be even more of a suicide mission than investigating your fellow detective.”

“I know,” Chloe admitted. “And the chances of finding evidence from thirty years ago are exactly zero.” She glanced at Lucifer from the side. “Lucifer, what you did back there—”

“I apologize for losing my temper, Detective.”

“Yeah, that was … but that’s all right. I don’t blame you. But what you did … you moved that entire couch. Just like that. Like it was nothing. And—how?”

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere past the windshield. “Anger tends to heighten things. It gets easier to interact with objects, either by touching them or just moving them like I did the couch.”

“With your mind?” Chloe asked, mind-boggled.

“I suppose.”

“And you could do that with anything?”

He squirmed a little in his seat and Chloe thought maybe this line of questioning made him a little uncomfortable. “I couldn’t do that before. Before I became this, I mean.” He gestured to his person and then, for good measure, brushed his fingers through the dashboard. “It came with the—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—it came with the ghost territory. All of it. The moving objects, the illusions. I couldn’t do that before.” He paused and looked at her. “But yes, with enough concentration or even when I’m angry enough, I can move things. It takes a lot out of me, though.”

Chloe nodded. She’d noticed that. He kept flickering and not in the irritated way he usually did. This was more like he was fighting to even stay visible. “You don’t have to, you know?” At his questioning look, she elaborated, “You don’t have to stay visible for my sake. I don’t mind.”

Lucifer hummed and nodded but stayed visible nonetheless, only disappearing from view for a few seconds at a time every now and then. “You should let me talk to your captain,” he mused.

“What? Are you kidding me? No. You’ll lose me my job.”

“Oh, please, Detective, I would never.”

“Sending a ghost after my captain? Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s not acceptable workplace behavior.”

Lucifer grumbled and shifted in his seat. “He wouldn’t have to know. About you knowing me. I could just—” He made a gesture reminiscent of jazz hands. “Surprise him, you know? I could possibly get him to tell me what really happened.”

“By scaring him to death?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said matter-of-factly. “You can’t deny that it gets results.”

“I’d still prefer it if you left him be for now, yeah? We don’t have any definite proof and I don’t want to risk it.”

“This whole police business, investigating and finding proof, can get pretty boring pretty fast.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s simply how it works. We still get results in the end.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens.”

They made it back to the precinct, Lucifer making himself scarce as soon as they entered the parking garage. His cold spot followed Chloe all the way back to her desk and she mumbled under her breath that she would continue her research for a bit and for him to let her know, if he’d rather go back to _Dire Oaks_. She heard him hum in agreement but that was it. After a couple of minutes, Chloe was pretty sure that he’d wandered off.

An hour and a coffee later, she was still sat at her desk, her eyes getting tired already. She blamed it on her constant lack of sleep.

Suddenly, a crash sounded from the level below. Heads turned, but no one seemed concerned enough to go investigate the noise. If it was serious there were enough people downstairs to handle it and the paperwork wouldn’t do itself. Chloe rolled her eyes a little and refocused on her screen where she was scrolling through old articles from the LA Times, searching for any kind of mention of Delilah’s shooting. So far, no luck.

Half a minute later Dan stood before her. “You should have seen it. It would have made your day.”

“Doubtful. What happened?”

“The captain. He came out of his office, white as a sheet, and proceeded to run into the glass door on his way out. And then got up and knocked over Clemens and his little coffee cart.”

Chloe put the pen down that she’d been unconsciously chewing on. “Am I supposed to laugh at other people’s mishaps?”

Dan groaned. “Come on, Chlo, you could once in a while. Especially, if those other people have been total assholes to you.”

“Yeah,” Chloe sighed. She couldn’t deny that it was probably karma. “What was going on with him?”

“No idea. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

Chloe froze. Where was Lucifer? “Oh, no, he didn’t,” Chloe said through gritted teeth.

“He didn’t what?”

“Nothing. Sorry, Dan. I have to go find someone.”

She left him standing and hurried into Ella’s lab. The forensic wasn’t present, so Chloe shut the doors and the blinds as well just to be sure. “Lucifer,” she hissed. “Please, tell me you didn’t.”

“What, Detective?” His voice was disembodied, and Chloe couldn’t trace it to a specific spot in the room.

She turned in circles, raising an angry finger at thin air. “I thought we agreed on not confronting Normandy!”

“I don’t recall agreeing to anything.”

“Lucifer, for God’s sake—”

“Don’t bring Him into this!” Suddenly he stood right before her. “You can be glad that I left that pathetic excuse of a captain his wits,” he growled out. “Someone ought to tattoo the word _corruption_ on his forehead.”

“What did you do, Lucifer?”

“Figured out that my abilities do work after all. And he told me everything.”

Caught between wanting to yell at him some more and intrigued to find out what he knew, Chloe bit her tongue. “Which is?” she prodded carefully, curiosity besting her anger.

Lucifer’s expression considerably darkened. “He confirmed that Delilah’s death was a hit. He swept the case under the rug because he knew the shooter. Eddie Deacon was Normandy’s inside man in the drug scene.”

“Wait, hold up, you said he confirmed it was a hit? How does he know?”

“Because the payment was in the boot of the car. Money, a watch—”

“A watch?” Something in the back of Chloe’s mind rang a bell but she couldn’t place it. “I’m assuming Normandy made all of it disappear since there’s no mention of it in evidence. Does he still have it?”

“No, of course not. He sold what he could sell, and the money is long gone.”

Chloe cursed under her breath. There was no way she’d ever be able to track down whoever Normandy had sold the evidence to. Tracing the spent money was just as impossible after thirty years. “What else was there? Did he say?”

“He only said he sold the watch and the drugs that were in the car,” Lucifer spat. “But what does it matter—”

“That’s it!” Suddenly, something in Chloe’s brain clicked. “Jimmy Barnes.”

“What?” Lucifer growled and Chloe shivered from the chill that swept through the lab.

“That picture, the one of Delilah and Jimmy. He was wearing a watch, one of those fancy ones. They’re worth quite a hefty sum. What if he used it to pay Eddie Deacon for the hit on Delilah?”

Lucifer’s gaze was fixed on her, his eyes cold as ice. He didn’t say a word, but his jaw worked silently, tension visible in every line of his body.

“It would make sense. He ordered the hit on Delilah, knowing it would look like a drug-related shooting,” Chloe said, the wheels in her head turning. “If only we had all the evidence. A picture of the watch from Deacon’s car would be all we need—”

“No, Detective! What we need is to punish that bastard!” Lucifer growled.

“But we can’t prove anything.”

“Who cares? You’re not even officially investigating anything. What matters is that that maggot of a man is out there! Free to live his life for thirty years now without having to answer for his crimes!”

“Lucifer, we can’t just arrest him. I get that you’re upset—”

“Upset?” He laughed bitterly and turned away from her. “I’m furious.”

“Hey,” Chloe said softly. “Lucifer. We will get him. And we will get justice for Delilah. Trust me. But we have to do this my way. We’ll go talk to him, okay? We can pressure him, maybe he’ll let something slip.” Lucifer glanced back at her, seemingly unsure of how to answer that. A moment later he was gone. Chloe could only throw her arms up in frustration. “All right, I guess. Just—please stay near. I don’t want you to get hurt.”


	11. The Ugly Truth

The headlights on the highway seemed blinding in the rapidly falling darkness. Chloe weaved the car through traffic on their way to Jimmy Barnes’ studio where he was working on an album according to his help back at his mansion.

Lucifer had appeared in the passenger seat as she’d started the car, not saying a word, and his icy fury made shivers run down Chloe’s spine. He didn’t flicker out of view even once during the entire drive. Only when they pulled into a free parking space, he gave Chloe a look that spoke of nothing but retribution and disappeared. “He’s going to get what he deserves, Detective.”

“Lucifer?” Chloe scrambled to get out of the car. “Lucifer, don’t hurt him. We’re just here to bring him in.”

She received no answer and with a muttered curse on her lips she hurried into the studio, hopefully not too late to stop a revenge-thirsty Lucifer from wreaking havoc. For a moment she considered running into the other direction, far enough to force Lucifer’s return to _Dire Oaks_ , but before the thought could even take hold, she shut it away, firmly putting a lock on it. It would hurt him and not only physically. Chloe would never do that to him. _Couldn’t_ do that to him.

The studio had no such thing as a front desk, so Chloe made her way down a couple of hallways, following the music that could be heard. She realized she already had her hand on her holster and put it down, trying to relax her posture. There was no need to escalate the situation. Either Jimmy came willingly, or she’d call for backup. She didn’t know how that would go down exactly, seeing as she wasn’t supposed to be investigating anything, but she could make up a white lie or two about how she’d somehow just stumbled upon this entire thing. It would last her long enough to at least get dispatch to send a unit her way.

Entering the actual studio, she saw only one guy at the microphone as well as Jimmy behind the glass. No Lucifer in sight. She didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. In the end she decided on _not_ ; she’d rather know where her partner was. Playing the guessing game never ended well in these kind of situations.

The music stopped abruptly when Jimmy noticed her and pushed a button to stop the playback. “What do you think you’re doing here?” he asked over the intercom, then proceeded to throw his headphones down and stomp through the door that connected the two rooms. “You can’t just walk in here.”

“Oh, I can. And I have. I’m here to bring you down to the station.”

“I don’t think I heard you quite right,” Jimmy ground out. “You’re not taking me anywhere. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I … think I’m just going to go and take five,” the singer at the microphone said slowly and started to inch away. At Jimmy’s glare, he added, “Or maybe ten.” Then he was out the door.

Jimmy turned back to Chloe. “Whatever game you think you’re playing here, you better stop now. You don’t have anything you can hold against me.”

“I told you I have a reliable source. And that source knows of your involvement in Delilah’s death.”

“Oh yeah? And who is that supposed to be?” Jimmy laughed.

Lucifer took that as his cue, appearing to Chloe’s right. “That would be me. Hello, Jimmy. Long time no see.”

Jimmy stumbled backwards, all blood leaving his face. “Y-you?”

“Yes, me!” Lucifer took a step forward and Chloe silently debated whether and how to hold him back. “You didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did you?”

“But h-how? You look—you didn’t—thirty years …” Jimmy’s words ended in an incomprehensible mumble as he kept walking backwards. Only when his back hit the wall, he seemed to gather some of his wits. “Where did you come from?”

“Oh, Jimmy, you never were the brightest. You just keep asking all the wrong questions.”

“Who are you, you freak?”

Lucifer chuckled and took another menacing step. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Lucifer, stop it,” Chloe said, finally gathering enough courage to step between Lucifer and his prey. “We’ll just bring him in and then figure out how to prove him guilty.”

“He’d wiggle himself out of it, the slimy miscreant,” Lucifer scoffed as he looked down on her. “I’d like to make sure he confesses now, if you don’t mind. Watch and learn.”

He flickered and stood right in front of Jimmy before Chloe could even say another word. Jimmy yelped and pressed himself into the wall in an attempt to get away. Chloe just hoped he didn’t figure out that he could just walk right through Lucifer.

“Tell me, Jimmy,” Lucifer drawled, his voice low but Chloe could hear every word perfectly. “Why did you have Delilah killed? What was it you desired?”

Chloe stepped forward and saw Jimmy’s eyes glaze over as if in some kind of trance. His lips were moving silently before he even got any words out. “I … I wanted …”

“Go on, tell me,” Lucifer urged him.

“I wanted to make her pay.”

Lucifer growled and turned away from Jimmy, angrily pacing away. “So, you are responsible. You had her killed!” he yelled. “And for what?”

“She ruined me!” Jimmy yelled back, anger overtaking him as well.

“She did no such thing!”

“I made her! And she humiliated me!”

“You’re not God, Jimmy. You didn’t make her,” Lucifer hissed and stalked towards Jimmy, everything about him screaming predator. “But you did destroy her. And I am going to punish you for it.”

“You stay away from me!”

Everything happened very fast after that. Jimmy pulled a gun from behind his back, pointing it at Lucifer. Chloe unholstered her own gun and aimed at Jimmy, through Lucifer, hoping it would have no ill effect on him. “Jimmy, don’t do this,” she cautioned but the producer paid her no mind. And neither did Lucifer.

“You are not God,” Lucifer growled once more. “But you know who I am, don’t you? I am the Devil. And I am here to make you pay.” And he plunged his fist into Jimmy’s chest.

Chloe choked, her gun wavering. Of course, his arm went through, but Jimmy screamed as if Lucifer had truly ripped his ribcage open. In the glass of the window, Chloe could see the reflection of Lucifer’s face, his lips twisted into a gleeful smile as Jimmy screamed and screamed. For a moment she thought she saw something else in the reflection, but it was gone before she could take a second look.

Her gun wavered. She didn’t understand what was happening. Jimmy still screamed, the sound shrill and piercing. But why? The sight of Lucifer’s arm going through the man’s chest was bizarre, sure, but she knew what it felt like to have any part of Lucifer pass through you. It was cold. It stung a little and made your skin tingle. But it didn’t warrant _this_.

“I’ll see you in Hell, Jimmy.”

He pulled his arm back and Jimmy’s eyes rolled upwards. He dropped like a puppet with cut strings, sliding down the wall, his upper body hitting the floor with a dull thud. Lucifer just stood there, his head tilted to the side, as if he was admiring his handiwork.

“Lucifer?” Chloe’s voice shook. “What did you do?”

“Made him pay.”

Chloe couldn’t find any answer to that, words eluding her. She rushed forward, kneeling beside Jimmy’s prone body to feel his pulse. Panic started rising in her chest when she realized she couldn’t find it. Jimmy Barnes was dead.

“You killed him. Shit, Lucifer, you _killed_ him.”

“He’ll survive,” Lucifer said, his voice void of any emotion.

“No, Lucifer! He won’t! He doesn’t have a—”

A gasping breath from Jimmy stopped her oncoming tirade. Chloe flinched back, lost her balance and fell on her rear. From the corner of her eye she swore she saw someone standing next to Lucifer but when she looked up it was just him, his face void of any expression.

As Jimmy began whimpering, curled up on the floor, Lucifer spoke, “It wasn’t his time, yet. But he got a good glimpse of Hell. I wouldn’t be surprised, if it lands him in an insane asylum.”

“Lucifer …” Chloe was lost for words.

She had no idea what she’d just witnessed. Something had happened and she could only grasp the barest edge of it. The look in Lucifer’s eyes told her that it was more than just luck that Jimmy had survived. This was Lucifer's design. And he revelled in it.

He had enjoyed this.

The realization breathed down her neck like a predator in the dark of night and made her shudder.

* * *

Chloe called for an ambulance. Lucifer was gone before it arrived and wouldn’t answer to any of Chloe’s tries at conversation, so she wasn’t quite sure whether he was still around or whether he’d left his little safe perimeter on purpose. His anger about everything that had gone down hadn’t quite abated, she knew as much.

Several half-truths got around all the questions the paramedics and officers were asking and when Jimmy started screaming at the top of his lungs, his eyes so wide that it looked downright scary, Chloe hastily made a retreat. She made it just outside to the street, when she heard Jimmy raving. “He’s the Devil! He’s the Devil! Help me, he’s the Devil!”

She quickly pushed the door shut.

Back in her car, she sent a text to Dan to check on Trixie, then dropped her phone on the passenger seat. Her hand passed through icy cold and she quickly pulled it back. “Lucifer?”

“Had I known you’d do that, I would have avoided it. Apologies.”

“It’s all right.”

He appeared in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere past the windshield. The wrath in his eyes had lost some of its intensity, a roaring fire contained now. Slowly, he let his head roll to the side until their eyes met. “Will you take me back, Detective?”

“Of course.”

She had to swallow hard. What if this was it? Back to _Dire Oaks_ and then what? He’d disappear? Chloe didn’t know what she’d do, if he just left, so she shoved those thoughts away for the moment and turned the key in the ignition. The rumble of the engine soothed her nerves a little, the adrenaline still running a bit higher than usual. The look in Jimmy Barnes’ eyes as they took him away would surely give her nightmares.

They reached _Dire Oaks_ and Chloe parked her car on the side of the street underneath the willow. Lucifer didn’t say a word. He flickered, disappeared, and then she saw him walk through the gate and up the stairs to the porch. Chloe followed some ways behind him. She didn’t know what to expect. Was this it? They’d solved the case. What would happen to Lucifer now? She stopped on the last step, unsure of how to address this.

“Are you all right?” she asked him eventually.

He nodded silently, his eyes still somewhere far away. He took a step towards the Hollywood swing, then seemed to think better of it and remained frozen to the spot. “Where is your spawn?”

“With Dan. But I—I want to see her tonight, so I’ll have to go pick her up in a bit.”

“Oh,” he said, almost disappointed. “I think … I’ll stay here, then. Enough excitement for one day.”

Chloe stepped closer to him, trying to meet his eyes. “You … I mean, are you staying, though?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “I have nowhere to go.”

“No, I meant—” Chloe searched for the right words, then started anew. “Now that we got justice for Delilah, what are you going to do?”

He let out a small sigh. “There’s not much for me to do. I’ll be here at the house. As always. Maybe I can keep helping you with that Palmetto case of yours. Unofficially, of course.” He gave her a winning smile, but Chloe couldn’t find it in her to do the same.

“But I thought … I didn’t think anything would be keeping you here anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment. “I got it wrong.” Meeting his eyes again, she saw only confusion on his face. “Didn’t I?”

“Got what wrong?”

“I thought Delilah was the reason you couldn’t move on. That she was what’s keeping you here.”

Finally, he seemed to catch on and rolled his eyes. “Detective, I told you—”

“No!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice but somehow her frustration got the better of her. “This was supposed to be it. This was supposed to help you move on.”

His gaze fell. Suddenly any trace of happiness or teasing disappeared from his face, his shoulders tense, his form flickering once before he ruthlessly suppressed it. “You only wanted me gone.” His voice was like ice. “You did all this just to get rid of me.”

“No, Lucifer, it’s not like that—”

“What?” he interrupted, anger overtaking him. “It was all just some ploy to get me to leave, wasn’t it?” He began to laugh, then. “Oh, this is just grand, and I really should have expected it.”

“Lucifer, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, didn’t you? Well, everyone else did. _Everyone_ I’ve ever trusted has cast me out. I should have _known_ you wouldn’t be the exception.”

Chloe took a step forward, maybe to reassure him, she wasn’t sure. “Please, let’s just talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Detective!” he roared, and the house shook.

Chloe did her best to ignore it, trying to keep the argument from derailing. “I can’t even explain myself because you’re not letting me speak.”

“Why let you speak, when all you do is lie?” he spat.

It was like someone had lit a match behind his eyes, his irises catching flame, burning a fiery red. Chloe stared. She couldn’t breathe. He advanced on her, his otherworldly eyes unblinkingly fixed on her. She wanted to scream. She couldn’t. She wanted to run. But she _couldn’t_.

“Leave,” he growled, so close to her now that the air was freezing cold. “Leave, Detective, and never come back. Or I’ll show you a haunting worthy of the ghost you still believe me to be.”

Chloe opened her mouth, but she couldn’t form any coherent words. Her hindbrain was gibbering in a mixture of panic and madness. His eyes—they invoked terror in every sense of the word.

Then his skin cracked, his cheeks and forehead, flames flickering along his face, as he leaned closer. “Run, little rabbit, run. Lest the Devil get you.”

And she did run. Away. Away from him. Back to her car. And then all the way back into the city.

Not once did she manage to shake the image of his glowing eyes.

On her way she canceled with Dan, telling him to keep Trixie. Her daughter shouted a “goodnight, love you, Mommy” over the phone as Dan held it out to her and Chloe didn’t know why but tears started streaming down her face.

“Chlo, is everything okay? What happened?”

“Nothing, Dan. I—It was a long day. I’ll tell you some other time. Just—just make sure Trixie is all right. Talk to you soon.” Then she hung up before he could even get a word in and her tears started coming for real. She had to pull over for a second until her vision wasn’t too blurry to see anymore.

She sat there and breathed for a few minutes. Then she pulled the car around and started driving. After all, there was only one person she could talk to about all this.

* * *

“Chloe? What’s going on?” Ella had opened her door in her pyjamas, glasses perched on her nose and hair twisted up in a bun. “Did I forget we had a date?”

“No,” Chloe quickly shook her head. “No, you didn’t and I’m sorry for just barging in. But … I was hoping you’d maybe let me crash here tonight. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Ella’s face lit up immediately. “Totally! Get in here.”

“Are you sure? I can still go crash at Dan’s.”

“No way, girlfriend.” She ushered her in. “I’m assuming this impromptu sleepover has something to do with the house and when I say ‘house’ I actually mean the house ghost. Am I warm or cold?”

“Very warm. Hot actually,” Chloe admitted with a sigh. “I screwed up, Ella. And he’s—he is—” She couldn’t get the words out.

“Oh, don’t worry. We can fix everything. How about you drop all your stuff right here and I’ll make some hot cocoa, while you go make yourself comfortable in the living room. Right through there.”

Chloe followed Ella’s directions and emerged into the comfy living room. Posters of Star Trek, Doctor Who and Lord of the Rings covered the wall behind the couch, picture frames with family photos hung on the opposite side above the TV. Her couch was the comfiest thing Chloe had ever seen, the abundance of pillows looking so inviting that she simply collapsed onto it and let herself sink as deep into the cushions as possible. She took in all the little knick-knacks that were so very Ella that she couldn’t help but smile. The mug on the coffee table had Ella’s own face on it, the stack of books to the left of the couch a mix of chemistry books and high fantasy.

When Ella returned, she carried two mugs and a plate of cookies on a little tablet. The mugs were huge and filled to the brim. “You want marshmallows in yours? For you I’d surrender the last of them.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said. Ella really was the kindest of souls.

“So, what happened?”

Chloe sipped on her hot chocolate—it was absolutely perfect—and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “We caught Delilah’s killer.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m just not quite sure what happened to him. Like, he was full on raving when they brought him in.”

“Hm, that was Lucifer.” Chloe swallowed hard and gripped her mug with both hands, soaking up the warmth.

“That was—how?”

Lucifer’s face cracked and burned before her inner eye. Chloe shuddered. “Oh, Ella.” She tried to hold back the tears. “I don’t know what to do or what to think.”

Ella put her mug down on the coffee table immediately, scooting closer to Chloe, taking hers from her, too. “Hey, it’s okay. Just take a breath. May I hug you?”

Ella’s hug felt wonderful and Chloe surrendered to the tears, sobbing quietly into Ella’s shoulder. Ella rubbed her back comfortingly and didn’t pressure her. She didn’t even pull back when most people would have done so long ago. She simply held Chloe as long as she needed it. When Chloe finally managed to compose herself at least enough to sit up straight again, she whispered a small “thank you, Ella” and sniffled quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break down on you.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’m here for you. Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather watch a movie or some reruns while we stuff ourselves with junk food? I can order some pizza. I know the best place.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” Chloe protested but Ella waved her off immediately.

“Oh, pssht, nonsense. If you need it, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. And we can still talk later or tomorrow or not at all. Just let me know what I can do.”

“Thank you. You’re the best, Ella.”

“So I’m told. Now, let me just get my phone and we’ll order that pizza. Oh, and bread sticks! They have amazing bread sticks.”

As Ella disappeared into her kitchen, Chloe wiped at her eyes until her face was dry from the tears. She wanted to tell Ella what had happened, but she didn’t know whether she should. Ella’s faith was important to her. Chloe didn’t want to shake her, telling her about Lucifer being the actual Devil.

Because that’s what he was. Chloe had spent the entire drive thinking about it, his eyes haunting her with their eerie glow. And there was simply no other conclusion: Lucifer was the literal Devil. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t made any of it up. But what was she supposed to do with that? The Devil—that meant Heaven and Hell and God—

Her thoughts spun in circles. She’d never been a believer and whenever Lucifer had told her his truth, she’d shrugged it off as nonsense, thinking that even if it were true it wouldn’t really mean anything. But now … it _did_ mean something. And Chloe didn’t know what that something was.

Was she scared? No. Not really. Lucifer wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t like that. But then again, Chloe had no idea what the Devil was supposed to be like. She knew people called him the epitome of evil but … Lucifer? He was an oddball with a temper at best. Sure, his eyes had been scary, his demeanor frightening in an uncanny, otherworldly way. But he’d never given her any reason to believe him malevolent.

In short, she had no idea what to think.

And she wouldn’t pull Ella into this clusterfuck. She could tell her part of it. The important parts, as in how she’d upset him.

When the pizza arrived, Ella opened the door in the exact same ensemble as before. The pizza delivery guy looked at her, then at Chloe waiting behind her to help carry the pizza, her eyes still a bit puffy and her hair probably all over the place, and he gave Ella a conspiratory smile. “I see how it is. Who is the idiot? Do I need to go and defend your honor? Who am I fighting?” he asked Chloe.

Chloe laughed half-heartedly. She really should just say Satan. “No, I think I’m good,” she replied instead and pointed at the pizza. “You’re already saving lives with the food.”

He shrugged and handed it over. “I do my best. Well, I hope you have a good night, either way. Screw that guy.”

“Thank you.” Ella tipped him as Chloe carried the pizza cartons and bag of bread sticks into the living room.

“It smells amazing,” she groaned when they both sat down.

“That’s because it is. Wait! Before we dig in, you pick what to watch and I’ll get you some comfy sweatpants. This evening calls to be the definition of the word sloth.”

Several hours later, most of the pizza and all the bread sticks were gone and both Chloe and Ella lay on the couch, snuggled up under blankets as they watched the ending of _Jurassic Park_. Chloe hadn’t seen the movie in a long time, most of the plot long forgotten, so it was a wonderful way to indulge in some escapism. By the time the credits rolled, she had forgotten about why she was here in the first place. It only came back to her when Ella gave her a calculating look.

“We should probably get some sleep, huh? It’s late and I am minutes away from falling victim to a serious food coma.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed, stifling the yawn that threatened to escape her.

“Be honest, though,” Ella said seriously. “Do you need to talk? Because it won’t do you any good if you can’t get any shut eye because of whatever’s bothering you.”

Chloe gave her a thankful smile. “No, it’s all right, Ella. I’ll sleep over it and maybe tomorrow it will all look different.”

“It usually does. We’ll fix it, I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“Excuse you, LA’s best detective and second best forensic are on the case. We can fix anything,” Ella announced.

Chloe raised one eyebrow. “Only second best?”

“There’s this guy in Beverly Hills …” Ella narrowed her eyes. “One day, I’ll best him.”

“As long as I don’t find his body.”

“I’m good at hiding my tracks.”

* * *

As Ella flipped pancakes the next morning, Chloe called Trixie, just to check on her and Dan again. Her little girl was already dressed and ready to go to school, crunching on her cereal as she talked to Chloe.

“I have choir today. And Daddy will pick me up and we’ll go to the beach.”

“A beach day? That sounds amazing right now.”

“You could come.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t think today will work out. But we can make a date for the weekend, if you want to.”

“Nah, I want to play in the garden at _Dire Oaks_ again on the weekend,” Trixie immediately vetoed.

“I think that can be arranged,” Chloe said, cringing at the half-truth it was. She had no idea what Lucifer would do if she returned to _Dire Oaks_ now.

“Oh, Daddy says we have to go, or I’ll be late. See you on the weekend, Mommy.”

“Love you, Monkey. Be good for Dad.”

“Love you, too.”

Ella pushed a plate of pancakes towards her as she hung up. “Your little girl is the sweetest.”

“Oh, you haven’t met her when she’s in a mood.”

“Nonsense, she’s way too cute.” Ella plucked a piece of pancake from her plate and munched on it before facing Chloe, her expression serious. “All right, girl, you want to tell me what happened?”

Chloe nodded, her lip caught between her teeth. “Well, you know we had that theory of Delilah being the reason that Lucifer is still here?” Ella nodded. “When we got back to the house, I asked him what he was going to do now and he just—he said he’ll stay at _Dire Oaks_. So, I basically asked why he won’t move on now that we found Delilah’s killer. And he took it wrong. Now he thinks I only helped him to get rid of him.”

“Oh. That’s a pretty easy misunderstanding,” Ella mused. “But just as easily rectified, don’t you think?”

“It’s not as easy as you think arguing with a ghost who can just,” she mimed an explosion with both hands, “evaporate into thin air.”

“Do you want me to come along to talk to him? I’ve had the odd argument with Rae Rae. Maybe I can help.”

“No,” Chloe shook her head. “I think he needs to hear this from me. I don’t know why I’m so scared to just go and talk to him.” That was a lie. She knew why. It was because he was the actual Devil and Chloe had no idea how to deal with that. “Hey, Ella, you believe in God, don’t you?”

“Yes? Why, what’s this got to do with anything?”

She sighed. “I got to thinking. Just—Lucifer believes himself to be the Devil. And I just keep wondering why? What did the Devil do specifically? I mean, is he really evil or something?”

Ella pondered her question for a moment. “You know, I never thought the Devil was the villain of the story. Sure, he made mistakes and got the short end of the stick for his troubles, but I don’t think he meant harm, you know?”

“I don’t get it. How could the Devil not mean harm?”

“Well, all he really did to humans was tempt Eve. That’s all we know—well, all we believe to know. But that was after he fell from Heaven. Some people say he rebelled against God and that’s why he was kicked out. Others say he just wanted freedom. And what about that could be cause enough for us to think he’s evil?”

Chloe’s eyes widened a bit. “The Devil was an angel before he fell, that’s right. I’d forgotten about that.” How could she forget? Lucifer himself had mentioned that he could fly, for G—for _someone’s_ sake.

“Yeah, and how could an angel, even if he fell, be something truly evil? I don’t buy it,” Ella said with a shake of her head. “But that’s got little to do with _our_ Lucifer. If you ask me, your ghost calls himself Lucifer because he feels misunderstood. He feels alone. He _was_ alone for thirty plus years. That could drive anyone insane.”

“He’s not insane.”

“No, yeah, not what I meant. I’m just saying, maybe he experienced similar things as the Devil from the stories, like getting kicked out, being abandoned et cetera.”

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed. “I think you might be right.”

Ella hummed, then let out a puff of air. “Heavy breakfast conversations, huh? We should get going, though. I can’t be late today. Got results waiting for me in the lab.”

“Oh my God, of course.” She cringed at her own vocabulary but nodded frantically. “Yeah, let’s get a move on.” She’d have to deal with her upturned worldview later. Preferably much, much later.


	12. The Uninvited Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning for some mild horror elements in this one. 😬

They were marginally late. Ella rushed straight into her lab, muttering about the possible outcomes of her tests. Chloe was left alone standing at the bottom of the stairs that led into the bullpen. She spotted Dan over the heads of some officers, but he seemed occupied with a phone call, so she opted to leave him alone for now. Maybe at lunch she could make sure he’d sent Trixie to school with her overnight stuff.

She tried not to think about facing Lucifer that night with Trixie in tow. Was it safe? Should she tell Dan to keep Trixie for the weekend? Should she even go back to _Dire Oaks_? All of her stuff was still there. She’d have to pick that up at least.

Her thoughts spinning, she wandered over to her desk, rid herself of her jacket and made her way to the restrooms. Mostly, she just needed a moment alone, to calm down and to think this through. When she locked the door to the stall she’d picked, she heard someone else enter the bathroom. A moment later the faucet was turned on. Chloe quietly lowered herself onto the closed lid of the toilet and decided to wait out whoever was in here with her.

She flinched terribly when someone suddenly banged on the door of her stall.

“Get out of there, Decker! There’s no point in hiding.”

Malcolm.

“Excuse you! Get out of this bathroom!” Chloe yelled back, affronted.

“No, no, no. First we want to see you face to face.” That was another voice. Jacob Normandy. Her captain, corrupt cop number two. “So, you either come out of there or we’ll kick the door in.”

Chloe swallowed. Hard. Her chances didn’t look good with both of them teaming up on her. Dan wasn’t going to come to her aid, and neither would her Lucifer—yeah, no, the Devil wasn’t going to sweep in and save her and should she even be hoping for that? Shit.

Deciding that she’d rather not get the door slammed into her face if they really kicked it in, Chloe slid the latch to the side and stepped out of the stall. Normandy was standing at the door, his back leaning against it, effectively keeping anyone from entering. Malcolm was perched on the edge of the sinks, arms crossed.

“Well, look who we’ve got here,” he crowed. “The detective who thinks she can take on the entire police force on her own. Don’t you think you’re a little out of your league, Decker?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, keeping her tone neutral, although underneath the surface she was boiling with anger.

“You’re not fooling anyone here, so stop it with the charade,” Normandy drawled as if this whole thing was boring him. “Let’s call it what it is: you are a pain in our asses, Decker, and we won’t tolerate it any longer.”

“Excuse me? What the hell are you accusing me of?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” Normandy took a step away from the door, coming closer. “You don’t rank high enough on the food chain of this precinct to cause as much trouble as you have. Not only have you been hounding Graham, no, you decided, oh, let’s go and annoy the Captain as well. I mean, are you _trying_ to lose your job faster?”

“Whatever you think I’ve done, it had nothing to do with you,” Chloe hissed. “I never even brought up your name, so why do you have it out for me?”

“Why do I have it out for you? Oh, let me tell you.” He spread his arms wide, his grin almost manic. “I was minding my own business, just like any other day, so imagine my surprise, Decker, when you suddenly bring in Jimmy Barnes as a suspect for a case from over thirty years ago. A case I happened to have worked on. A case that was _closed_.” He took another step closer. “That alone would be bad enough because you have no right snooping like that. But you happen to do so only a few hours after I get assaulted in my office by some stranger asking about the _same case_. Now,” he hissed, “that is one hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Which got me thinking,” Malcolm jumps in. “If you’ve been sticking your nose into a case that was none of your business, perhaps you kept digging somewhere else as well?” He raised his eyebrows, feigning wonder. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? About closing the investigation around Palmetto?”

“I did close it!” Chloe gritted her teeth, her glare fixed on Malcolm. “So, I suggest you leave me be, both of you!” she growled.

“Or what?” Normandy laughed. “I’d be careful if I were you, Decker. I’ll make sure you lose your job before you can even utter the word corruption.”

Malcolm grinned maliciously. “And who would take care of that little girl of yours, then?”

“You leave my daughter out of this, Malcolm!”

“Oh, the kitten’s got claws,” he mocked in response. “I’ll tell you what,” Malcolm said and leaned closer, his mouth right next to her ear. “If you keep investigating, you better keep an eye out for your girl. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would we?”

Chloe shivered. Her throat closed up at the thought of Malcolm harming Trixie in any way. She wanted to argue, wanted to yell, wanted to punch both of them into their smug faces, but she was frozen against the door of the stall. Before she could come up with any answer at all, Malcolm retreated and nodded for Normandy to follow. They left her alone in the bathroom just as her knees began to shake.

“Oh, god, Trixie,” Chloe stammered. Before she knew it, she was out of the bathroom and at Dan’s desk. Dan saw her, shot her a smile and pointed to the phone at his ear, silently asking her to wait a second. Chloe tapped her foot anxiously as she waited for Dan to hang up. It took way too long.

When he finally did, she didn’t even give him time to take a breath. “Can you keep Trixie for the weekend?”

“What? But, Chloe, she’s—”

“Looking forward to it, I know. But, Dan, this is important. I wouldn’t ask, if it wasn’t.”

His eyes grew serious. “Chloe, what’s going on?”

She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but then she caught sight of Malcolm on the other side of the room. Slowly, he pulled his index finger across his own throat, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on her. All her resolve crumbled. “It’s not important. Something came up. Please, Dan, just—just pick her up from school. Tell her, I’ll call her and explain.”

Before Dan could say anything else, Chloe hurried away. She grabbed her bag and jacket and took the stairs out of the bullpen two at a time. She knew people were staring but she couldn’t care less.

She knew she had two choices now: give in and stop investigating or take the 999 key she’d found and bring Malcolm to justice once and for all. And Chloe had never been one to give up easily. She’d bring the key to the precinct, she’d find whoever lost it, and she’d find the proof she needed to confirm her suspicions about Malcolm’s machinations. Normandy would be harder to get rid of, but she’d figure it out.

She knew that’s what her father would have wanted her to do.

If only she had someone to confide in. Someone that wasn’t a deity and the ruler of Hell. Someone corporeal. Someone … well, anyone but Lucifer, really. The thought of asking him for help now after royally pissing him off seemed like a very, very bad idea. But, then again, it was her only idea. And it started to look more appealing by the second.

In the end, she swallowed her nerves, got into her car and started to drive.

To the Devil’s house.

Approaching _Dire Oaks_ filled her with dread. Not knowing what to expect inside was like jumping into a lake where you couldn’t see the ground. In a sense just as scary and just as dangerous. Chloe climbed the stairs to the porch and took one last breath before inserting the key and pushing open the front door.

It was dead silent inside.

“Lucifer?”

Nothing. Wherever he was, he obviously didn’t want to converse with her. Slowly, Chloe crept further into the house, taking in the living room. It was in total disarray. The rug had been overturned, most chairs from the dining table lay on the floor, two even as far as the fireplace. Chloe swallowed hard. Lucifer had been angry. Possibly still _was_ angry.

She righted the chairs as she passed them, peeking into the kitchen which had surprisingly survived Lucifer’s rampage with only a few utensils fallen to the floor.

“Lucifer, are you here?” she tried again. She knew her voice was wobbly at best, nerves getting the better of her. The sight of his glowing eyes was still burned onto the back of her eyelids and she couldn’t help the rising panic that filled her every time she thought of them.

The Devil, for somebody’s sake! She’d lived here with him, had brought him music and candles and had felt bad for him because he must have been so lonely. Now a part of her wondered if this was all some sort of trick. But no, Lucifer wouldn’t do that. He had never lied to her about who he was. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

And if he was truly stuck in this place—which, wow, of all the places he could have ended up, it had to be the old house that she happened to temporarily move into—she still wanted nothing more than to free him. No matter that he was the Devil. What did that even mean? He was no more or less evil than anyone else. Hell, he was a hundred times less evil than Malcolm.

Back in the living room, she called out again, louder this time. “Lucifer, I just want to talk. Please, I’m begging you here.”

That got her a reaction.

Suddenly he was right in front of her. But something wasn’t right. His face—

“How _dare_ you return?”

Chloe flinched backwards, stumbled and ended up on her rear. His voice was thunder and lightning personified—impossible. And his face, it was melting away in a glimmer of flame. Underneath—

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut and tried to crab-walk backwards. She collided with the wall next to the arch and dared to open her eyes again, albeit slowly. Lucifer was gone. Chloe breathed a little easier. She didn’t know whether what she’d just witnessed had been one of his illusions or if maybe it had been real, and he’d shown her the true face of the Devil. It didn’t matter. Her heart hammered away in her chest in sheer panic at even the thought of that face.

“Please, Lucifer, I … I want to apologize.”

Something warm and wet covered her fingers on the wooden floor. She looked down. There was something running down the wall, cracks appearing in the wooden paneling. It was too thick and too dark to be water. Chloe raised her hand before her eyes to look. The dark red substance covering her fingers was undeniably blood. The walls were bleeding.

“Holy shit!” Chloe yelped and pushed herself off the floor. Frantically, she tried to wipe her hands on her jeans to get the blood off. She only managed to spread it on her skin, dark paint strokes on alabaster. Panic began to swell in her chest. “No, no. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”

“But what if it is?” Lucifer’s voice—it had to be his, even though it didn’t sound like him, not even one bit—reverberated all around her. “I’m sure you’ve got some not-so-metaphorical blood on your hands, _Detective Decker._ ” The last two words were hissed into her ear and she whirled around. He wasn’t there.

“Lucifer, please—” She couldn’t find the words, her throat closing up as the room’s temperature dropped rapidly.

Then the lights went out.

It wasn’t just dark. It was pitch black around her. She couldn’t see a thing.

Oh, but she could hear.

The sound of slow but deliberate footsteps approaching. Instinctively, she backed away and her hip collided painfully with the couch. She squeezed her eyes shut. At least this way, the darkness didn’t seem so unnatural.

“Lucifer,” she whispered frantically. “Please, please, stop. I know this isn’t real.”

“Nothing with _you_ was ever real, was it?” It sounded like he was right next to her, his voice icy, and all she could see before her inner eye was that face—

Quickly, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t dark anymore. She stood alone in the living room, her fingers gripping the back of the couch like a vice. Her breathing was still uneven, panic making her inhale in too fast succession.

“Are you done?” she asked shakily. And she really should have known the answer would be no.

A shadow moved to her left, coming from the bookshelves and approaching her faster and faster. And that’s all it was—a shadow. It had no face. No eyes. Just swirling darkness that had its tendrils stretched out towards her.

Chloe backed away into the hall. “Stop it!”

They appeared from everywhere, slithering out from underneath furniture, seeping out of the walls, shadows upon shadows without their owners. And all of them closed in on Chloe, swirling around her, blocking her sight— “Lucifer, stop, please!”

But he didn’t. The shadows came closer and closer and with them came the screams. At first, they sounded far away, like a distant echo, but the closer the shadows came the closer the screams appeared. They grew louder. They were full of pain, terror and despair. Chloe covered her ears in a desperate attempt to escape the sound, but they only got louder.

And somehow she knew there was truth to them. They were the voices of real people, people tortured and in pain.

She didn’t know when she dropped to her knees. The shadows loomed over her, reaching out. And then Lucifer stepped through them. He stood before her, his face a nightmare personified. His eyes carrying the flames of Hell.

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut to escape the sight. She knew she was losing consciousness, her heart beating so fast that her blood rushed in her ears. The last thing she remembered was her cheek touching the cool floor, the old rug in the hall only inches away from her face.

* * *

When she came to, she could have sworn that she saw Lucifer sitting by her side, his legs crossed as he sat on the rug. But she blinked her blurry vision away and him right with it. Carefully, she climbed to her feet. Her knees hurt; she remembered falling down on them. Her hands weren’t bloody anymore, neither were the walls. The shadows had disappeared as well. None of it had been real.

Shivering a little, Chloe tried to block out the memory of what she’d seen and heard. He’d really pulled out the big guns with his haunting extraordinaire. Had he been able to do that this entire time? Most likely, yes. He’d just never had a reason to.

She limped the few meters to the guest bathroom and locked the door behind her, knowing it would do no good against him. Going to wash her hands—they felt dirty, even if none of it had been real—she turned on the faucet and glanced up at her reflection in the mirror.

The bloody letters on the glass didn’t even surprise her. Not really.

_what more do you want?_

“Okay, that’s it. Lucifer, I didn’t mean it! Let me just talk to you!” He didn’t respond. Of course, he didn’t. He was a stubborn ass. And Chloe couldn’t believe she’d just called the Devil a stubborn ass. “I’m not leaving until you let me explain. So, as long as you refuse to listen, I’ll just make myself comfortable. In fact, I’m going to take a nap, if you don’t mind. Maybe you’ll have more to say afterwards,” she told him and slammed the bathroom door as hard as she could on her way out.

Her steps slowed as she reached the landing upstairs.

The door to her bedroom was wide open, the handle barely still attached, and the room itself wasn’t any better off. The bed was turned over, books strewn across the floor, her bags and clothes much the same. The windows were intact, though wide open, and leaves had blown inside. Gingerly, Chloe stepped over the chaos that covered the floor and stood before the broken bed.

“Lucifer?” she called out, but there was no answer. Not even a little gust of wind or a cold spot. Only deafening silence.

She sighed. He must have been enraged to wreak havoc on this level and it was all her fault. What if he’d exhausted himself so much that he couldn’t even make himself appear? A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. He hated it now, disappearing altogether. Chloe couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to just vanish only to appear some time later with no recollection of what happened save for a few spotty impressions.

She truly hoped he was all right.

Trying her hardest, she fought to right the bed, so that she could at least lie down, but it was pointless. The heavy piece of furniture barely budged under her ministrations. In the end, she sat on the mattress that had landed on the floor, her face buried in her arms.

Not surprisingly, tears started to run down her cheeks not much later. It was all just too much to handle. Not only did she find out that Heaven and Hell and everything in between were real, no, on top of that her life and that of her daughter were being threatened. Her entire life seemed to be crumbling at the edges and she was running out of time to fix it.

“I screwed everything up, Lucifer,” she whispered, a sob escaping her. “Not just with you. I know I screwed up with you but that’s not all. Palmetto got out of hand. Malcolm knows I’m still after him and Normandy—” She paused. “If I keep going, I’m risking everything and for what? All I have is the 999 key and the Captain is so deeply involved in the corruption that he’ll make sure I lose my job, if I keep digging. And Malcolm—” She choked on his name and had to take a deep breath, raising her head from her arms. “He threatened to come for me. For Trixie, even. What am I supposed to do? I can’t put Trixie in danger like that.” Glancing at the ceiling, she wiped away her tears. “God, my life is a mess. And I hope I didn’t offend you by saying that,” she chuckled. “Who am I kidding, of course I did. Sorry.”

She didn’t know why she was telling him all this. After all, even if he wanted to help, there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t protect Trixie. That was Chloe’s job, she knew that. But she couldn’t help but feel—well, what? She’d felt safe with Lucifer at her side. She didn’t know whether that had been specifically him or if she’d just gotten used to having a partner around again.

She sniffled and wiped at her nose. The whole thing was a clusterfuck and the stars knew if it was fixable. There was one thing she _could_ fix, though.

“Lucifer, I know you’re here. Please,” she begged, “please let me talk to you.” He stayed silent and absent and she swallowed her pride, laying her soul bare. “Okay, listen. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you and I promise you—I _promise_ that I don’t want to get rid of you.” She waited for a few seconds to give him time to respond, if he wanted to, and then continued. “When I decided I would help you find Delilah’s killer, I did it because I thought I was helping you. I thought you were a ghost—which, yes, I get it now, you’re not—but I thought you were. And you were alone. Had been alone for thirty years. Trapped here, unable to move on, lonely and bored as hell.” She smiled a little at her own pun. “And I wanted to help. I wanted to give you peace of mind and, yes, I thought you’d move on afterward. But you know what?” One breath in, one breath out. “The further we got, the longer the investigation took, the more I wanted to just—I wanted to stop. I wanted to drop the case because I—I didn’t want you to go.”

A chilly gust of wind whirled through the room, the leaves lifting from the ground and dancing in the air for a second, before it subsided. He was here. He was listening. It was all Chloe needed to power through her little speech.

“Lucifer, I realized I didn’t want you to go. I didn’t want you to disappear. I wanted you to _stay_. Do you get that? It would have been so selfish, so stupidly selfish, to leave you trapped here for the rest of eternity just because I didn’t want to lose you. It would have been so easy, too. And I almost did it. I almost stopped investigating.

“But then … then you saw the beach and you looked so happy. So joyous to be there and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted you to be free. And I thought finding Delilah’s killer, setting you free and helping you move on, would be the only way to do that. So, no, I didn’t help you because I wanted you gone. I did all of it for—”

“Me?”

He stood before her when she looked up. His eyes were a deep red, looking into her very soul. She tried to speak but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat. Lucifer regarded her as she sat there frozen, not blinking once. Eventually, she brought forth his name. “Lucifer?”

“You did this for me?” he asked, his eyes still swirling red. “You … you wanted to help?”

“Yes.”

“…Why?” His question was one of genuine bafflement. His hypnotic gaze eased a little and Chloe blinked, managing to avert her eyes but he immediately let out a growl. “You will look me in the eye. I will have no more lies.”

So, she steeled herself and looked back at him. “Because I care about you, Lucifer. I care for you and I like spending time with you. And I didn’t want you to suffer and neither did I want you to leave.”

For another few moments he stared at her, then he turned away. “Humans. You make no sense,” he muttered.

“Lucifer, I—”

“I mean, honestly, you know I speak the truth now. You _know_. And yet you claim to care for me?” He whirled back around. “You ran scared just like everybody else, when you saw me for who I really am. But,” he held out his hands, fingers spread wide, “here you are. Back again. Begging me for forgiveness.”

“Yes,” Chloe whispered.

“But … why?”

“If we keep this up, we’ll go around in circles, Lucifer.”

“Why don’t you fear me?”

“I told you. The Devil doesn’t scare me. And knowing that you are the Devil, I fear him even less.”

He huffed out a laugh, somehow self-depreciatingly. “How can you say that? How can you just sit here and talk to me like I’m not—”

“You’d rather I ran away?”

She could see his jaw clench, his answer taking its time. “No,” he admitted eventually, and Chloe’s breaths came a little easier when his eyes dimmed and returned to their deep brown color. “But that doesn’t mean I understand where you’re coming from.”

“But do you believe me?” Chloe asked tentatively. “Do you believe me when I say that I didn’t help you just to get rid of you?”

He nodded solemnly. “I do.” Disappearing and reappearing right in front of her, crouched so their faces were on one level, he asked, “And you? Do you believe me?”

“Can’t really deny it anymore, can I?” Chloe huffed. “You’re—” She took a breath in. “You are the Devil.”

“Yes, I am. And it doesn’t scare you?”

“No.” She shook her head.

He hummed, studying her with alert eyes. “But someone else does.” At her frown, he elaborated. “Malcolm. He wants to harm you?”

She let out a shuddering breath, his open concern for her and his contempt for Malcolm erased almost every trace of fear that she ever had of him. “He threatened to, yes. I don’t know what to do about him.”

“He won’t touch a hair on your head,” Lucifer growled. “I won’t let him.”

Chloe met his eyes. “The Devil is on my side now?”

“He was always on your side.”

* * *

Although it was slowly getting dark outside, Chloe was wide awake. She was sorting through the mess that was her bedroom, picking up books and clothes. She’d already finished tidying the living room and kitchen. Lucifer, obviously irritated that he couldn’t help her with any of it, had apologized for the mess profusely. Now he was perched on the wide windowsill, watching her as she swept up the leaves that had blown in from outside.

“So, you really don’t know how you ended up haunting this house?” Chloe asked. It had quickly become a game of twenty questions. Well, more like a hundred questions and she was the only one asking. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind.

“I told you, Detective. I still believe that it’s my Father’s doing.”

Chloe’s eyes widened as his words registered and she quickly returned to cleaning up the floor. “Right. Okay. So, you—you left Hell because … Why did you leave Hell?”

“It’s dreadfully boring down there. And hot. And the company is awful. You wouldn’t like it, trust me.”

“I didn’t expect to like it, but good to know that even the Devil thinks it sucks.”

“That I do.”

“And Delilah? Did she know?”

“I never lie, Detective. I tell everyone who wants to know, but they don’t believe me. Neither did Delilah. At least I don’t think she did.” He tilted his head to the side in thought. “She asked me, on that day, whether she’d sold her soul to me.”

“And did she?”

“I don’t deal in souls, Detective. I never have. I don’t understand where humans get the notion from. Souls are useless and there are plenty in Hell. I don’t need any more of them, trust me.”

Chloe chuckled. “Good to know. Otherwise I’d owe you, like, three souls by now.” She lifted a book to put it back on the shelf, only to find a broken bottle of whiskey underneath. “Oh,” she said. “Was that the bottle you were saving?”

“That’s a shame,” Lucifer lamented, then shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I would have been able to drink it either way.”

“Maybe one day.”

“What do you mean?”

Chloe looked up at him. “I’d still like to help. If there’s any way to get you out of this whole ghost business, then we’ll find it.”

“That’s very kind of you but I’ve given up on finding a way out. My Father will release me, if he so desires, but it’s only been thirty years. The last time he locked me up it took me centuries to get out. So, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“That’s bullshit. He can’t leave you stuck here for the rest of your life. Or even for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, he can. And he will. But don’t worry about me, Detective. I’d rather worry about Malcolm. What are we going to do about him?”

Chloe hummed and went over to him, sitting down on the windowsill next to him. “I was going to check who’d lost their 999 key and then get whoever it is to talk. It’s a long shot but maybe they’re willing to give me something that will prove Malcolm’s involvement with Aoudi.” After a moment, she asked, “Will you still help me with this? I mean, you somehow got Normandy to talk, maybe you can do it again.”

Lucifer smiled. “Oh, I assure you, Detective, I can. It may not have worked on you, but I do have a certain skillset. I can be very persuasive.”

“You mean your …” She motioned around her own face. “What I saw? Was it real?”

His face fell. “I—I apologize. I should not have shown you my true face. You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s okay. You were angry with me and I get it.”

“Still. My face, I use it to punish the guilty. And you were not.”

“Well, I can’t deny that it’s effective,” Chloe said with a nervous laugh.

“It’s not what I meant, though. I have other ways of making people talk.”

Chloe hesitated to ask but she figured there was no point in holding back anymore. “What did you do to Jimmy Barnes?”

His irises flashed red for a split second before he looked away. “I made sure he knows what awaits him in Hell. I showed him my true face, showed him all kinds of visions of Hell, really. And he suffered a heart attack because of it.”

“So, he did die?”

“Oh, yes. But angels aren’t allowed to kill humans. It’s Dad’s rules.” He grimaced. “And that’s one of the few I abide by. Which is why I made sure my sister was present. She let his soul descend into Hell for just a moment before pulling him right back.”

“Your sister?” Chloe asked with wide eyes.

“Azrael. The angel of death. She owed me a favor and I cashed it in for Jimmy Barnes. Without her interference he would be dead.”

“Wow.” Chloe took a moment to process that. “I think—I think I saw her that night. But only for a moment. I thought I’d imagined it.”

Lucifer huffed. “She usually tries to avoid humans seeing her.”

“Why did she owe you?” Chloe asked, suddenly curious.

“She wanted me to keep a secret from our dear Miss Lopez,” Lucifer grinned.

“What? Ella?”

“Care to guess what nickname I used to call my little sister Azrael by?”

Chloe frowned. Then it dawned on her. “Rae Rae?” Lucifer nodded, his smile wide. “Are you kidding me? Rae Rae is Azrael, the angel of death? Ella’s friend?”

“I told you there’s no such thing as ghosts. Azrael simply told Miss Lopez that she was a ghost to avoid having to tell her that she’s actually an angel. When Miss Lopez mentioned that her ghost’s name was Rae Rae, I figured it out. That night I saw my sister again for the first time in almost three thousand years.” He sounded almost wistful. “We talked, she begged me not to tell Miss Lopez the truth, and in return I got an I.O.U. to cash in at a time of my choosing.” He paused and frowned a little. “She’s also convinced that it’s not my Father keeping me here.”

That had Chloe listen up. “What does she think it is, then?”

Lucifer hummed quietly and looked away. “She’s under the impression that we are more in control of what happens than we think.”

“Meaning …?”

He looked back at her, his expression closed off. “It doesn’t matter, Detective. I don’t believe she’s right. It all sounds like something my brother would come up with and he’s hardly the brightest among my siblings.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Too many, evidently,” Lucifer huffed. “The number is somewhere in the low hundreds. We’re not exactly close.”

A couple hundred angels, Chloe thought, and she couldn’t even wrap her head around the one sitting right in front of her. “Wow,” she mouthed and shook her head. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any crazier.”

“Well, I do try.”

Chloe huffed out a laugh. For a few moments they both remained silent. Then Chloe yawned. “Can I stay? And get some sleep before I tackle the rest of my problems tomorrow?”

“Of course, Detective. Where’s your spawn?”

“She’s with Dan. I thought she’d be safer away from me if Malcolm really wants to harm me.”

“I won’t let him. And we’ll find your proof. I’ll keep you safe. That’s a promise.”

* * *

Chloe woke from a noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like it could have been the front door opening but she wasn’t quite sure. It was probably just Lucifer, she thought. Restless as always during the night. Though she would prefer his piano playing to the creepy noises. That at least was less prone to giving her nightmares of being murdered in her sleep. Though, they’d only be added to the nightmares of red glowing eyes and a burned face that had haunted her dreams these last few hours.

Chloe shivered involuntarily as she was reminded of his crimson irises. His face, his terrifying, horribly burned face. She wasn’t scared of him, but she had to admit that he could be a little frightening with his Devil side on display.

A creak of a floorboard sounded from downstairs. Chloe even knew exactly which one it was—the one parallel to the dining table. What the hell was Lucifer doing?

Groggily, she slid out of bed and zombie-walked out into the hallway where she almost walked through Lucifer, who suddenly stood at the top of the stairs. “Lucifer? What are—”

“Shh.” He raised a finger to his lips and glanced meaningfully towards the stairs. “Someone’s downstairs.” His voice was low, almost a whisper and he pointed towards her bedroom door, motioning for her to go back inside.

Chloe had other ideas. “That’s not your doing?” she whispered. He shook his head vigorously, annoyance on his face. Of course, Chloe scolded herself. He wouldn’t lie about someone being downstairs. “Hide, then.”

“You hide, Detective,” he hissed back.

Footsteps reached the hall downstairs and Chloe tiptoed back into her room, not touching the door, knowing that the hinges still creaked like crazy. Silently, she cursed herself for leaving her sidearm with her jacket downstairs earlier that night. Even her Derringer was tucked into her boots all the way at the back door in the living room. She’d have to rely on her hand-to-hand combat skills alone.

Lucifer had disappeared but she could feel him. He was close. Circling her. Holding her breath, Chloe positioned herself behind the door of the bedroom. If the intruder walked in, she could take him down and call the police. She had the upper hand here.

Her eyes met Lucifer’s, who flickered into view in the corner of the room. She wouldn’t have noticed him, if it hadn’t been for his red eyes, like break lights in the dark only a million times more terrifying. But Chloe forced herself to look straight at him. She wasn’t frightened.

He nodded once, then disappeared. And Chloe got ready.

The footsteps had reached the second floor. They were slow and heavy, perhaps a man’s. Still, Chloe knew she could take him. She only needed him to come close enough.

He took the first step into the bedroom and Chloe lunged. A well-aimed kick to the back of his knee had him on the floor but he recovered just as quickly. Something glinted in the dark as he spun around to fight her. A gun. He was armed. And he was all too familiar.

“Malcolm?”

Her surprise and her moment of hesitation were her downfall. Malcolm aimed his gun straight at her and landed a kick of his own. Chloe gasped as pain shot through her shin and she let herself drop to the floor to avoid a second blow.

The click of the safety on Malcolm’s gun made her freeze.

“Well, well, Decker. Look at us now. How the tables have turned, right? Well,” he laughed, “not really, but you know what I mean, don’t ya?”

“Malcolm, stop this.”

“No, no, no. You have caused me and my family way too much trouble for me to just let you go now. It feels like …” He waved the gun around, then crouched before her and aimed the barrel right at her forehead. “It almost feels like I’ve been given a second chance here. I mean, I was going to shoot you at Palmetto. So, why not do it now?”

“You won’t get away with this, Malcolm.”

“Oh, won’t I? Haven’t you noticed? I’ve got friends in high places,” Malcolm crowed gleefully.

Chloe didn’t take her eyes off him but from the corner of her eye she could see a tall form taking shape, red eyes glowing in the dark. “Well,” she said and met Malcolm’s gaze head on. “So do I.”

With a roar Lucifer rushed forward. Malcolm visibly startled and hurried to stand and step out of the way, but Lucifer was too fast. Chloe expected him to just run through Malcolm or to plunge his hand into his chest like he’s done with Jimmy Barnes, but he didn’t. Lucifer barreled straight into Malcolm—and Malcolm flew backwards like he’d been hit by a semi. He crumpled to the floor at the far wall and Lucifer flickered violently, then disappeared. Chloe stared for a moment—her mind a screaming mess of _how did he touch him?_ and _holy shit!_ —but Malcolm made to get up, gun still in hand, and Chloe made a run for it.

She desperately hoped Lucifer was okay as she hurried down the stairs. She needed to get help. She realized quickly that her phone was upstairs on her nightstand. Why didn’t she pick that up at least? Getting her gun would have to do for now.

She reached the living room. Her jacket lay on the kitchen table, her gun right next to it—the clip was gone. “Shit!” Chloe cursed. Malcolm had gotten to it first. Panicking, she spun in a circle, trying to come up with a plan.

Suddenly Lucifer was by her side. “Detective, you need to go.”

“Lucifer, where is he?”

“He’s coming! I couldn’t—” He flickered and was gone. A second later he was back again. “I’m sorry, that took a lot out of me. I can’t—” Gone again. But his voice remained. “I can’t stay.”

“Lucifer!”

“I’m sorry, Detective,” reverberated all around her.

Then another voice came from the stairs. “Oh, Chloe!” it sang. “Oh, Decker!”

_“Run_ ,” Lucifer hissed next to her ear and she didn’t think twice about it. She made a run for the back door only to find the latch bent. It wouldn’t open. She was trapped. The windows, she thought, glancing towards the kitchen, where they opened all the way, wide enough to allow her to escape. But once again, her hesitation cost her.

“Here, Chloe, Chloe, Chloe.” Malcolm had reached bottom of the stairs. Running into the kitchen would mean running through his line of sight. In a split decision, she grabbed her left boot from where it stood at the back door and hid behind the short end of the couch near the window, praying to anyone who was listening that Malcolm would check the kitchen first.

Malcolm whistled as he took slow steps into the living area. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Chloe’s fingers closed around the Derringer hidden inside her boot. Now she was armed at least. Two bullets.

“Whoever your friend was, it seems he already made a run for it. So, it’s just you and me now, Decker.”

She ignored Malcolm’s quips, her mind laser-focused on her one chance at escape. The Derringer was a last resort. If she could make it to the front door, she could make a run for it. It was what she should have done in the first place. If she ran for cover in the trees, his chances of getting a clean shot would be next to none.

Malcolm took another two steps and Chloe felt a cold spot to her right. Trusting her instincts, she followed it, inching towards the right and away from the kitchen. Now the long part of the couch was between her and Malcolm who, thank whomever, stepped through the arch into the kitchen. Chloe peeked over the back of the couch, her breath coming shorter as adrenaline flooded her in preparation for what she was about to do. When Malcolm peeked around the corner towards the kitchenette, Chloe took one last gulp of a breath and made a run for the hall and the front door.

She made it halfway before she saw him turn around. She knew he’d seen her. She knew he raised his gun.

There was no other choice. Chloe whirled around, aimed her Derringer, and fired.

The shot rang in her ears. She saw it hit Malcolm in the chest and he dropped as if in slow motion. Her heart was hammering away in her ears, the adrenaline so high that her hands shook. Slowly, she lowered her gun and then dropped to her knees and just breathed.

Shit. That was her first thought. That could have ended horribly. But she’d gotten lucky.

She’d hit him. She’d _killed_ him.

It could have been her.

If Malcolm had pulled the trigger first, it could have been her.

“Detective?” Lucifer. He was nowhere to be seen but Chloe knew he was close.

She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Lucifer? Are you okay?”

“Am I?” He sounded almost affronted. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I’m fine. I just—I need a second.” She kept breathing, as steadily as possible, and tried to avoid looking at Malcolm’s body. “Shit. I killed him.”

Lucifer’s voice rumbled through the air around her. “He tried to kill you first.”

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then she got up. “I have to call this in. I need my phone. I have to …” She trailed off, her thoughts still going a hundred miles an hour.

She turned towards the stairs. Too late, she registered the distinct clicking sound of the safety. Heart in her throat and gun in her hand forgotten, she whirled around.

“No!”

Lucifer’s shout cut through the silence at the same time as the gunshot. He’d appeared between her and Malcolm in a vain attempt to shield her. A millisecond later, she heard the bullet hit flesh and braced for the pain that was sure to come.

It didn’t come.

Lucifer dropped to the floor in front of her. Malcolm’s arm holding the gun dropped to the ground, too weak to take another shot.

It didn’t matter. Chloe didn’t even think twice. She fired, her second bullet hitting Malcolm right in the head.

As it rang in her ears, she just breathed. Then reality came crashing down on her.

“Lucifer!” No. God, no. This couldn’t be happening. She kneeled by his side, not recalling running over to him. “Lucifer!”

“’tective?” His voice was strained, his hands pressing down on his abdomen. Blood colored his hands red.

“No, no, no. Lucifer!” Chloe reached to help him press down on the wound—

Her hands went through him.

“What? No,” she breathed. “Lucifer!” Tears began streaming down her face now, panic threatening to overtake her. “What do I do? What do I _do_?”

“It’s a—all right, Detective.”

He coughed and blood sputtered from his lips. Chloe reached for his face. Her fingers never met his skin. “ _Why?_ ” she cried. “Why can’t I touch you? Lucifer?”

“’s my Father’s f-fault for sure.”

“He shot you! How—” She broke off, her throat too tight to get the words out. Once again, her hand went through his abdomen. It was warm. Almost hot.

“It’s a pattern, isn’t it? S’pose I _wanted_ —” He coughed. Blood colored his lips.

“But _how_? You’re the Devil! You can’t—you can’t die! Don’t you dare die on me!”

“’ve had worse.”

“Shut up,” she whispered frantically, her hands flitting over his skin, his suit jacket, but whenever her fingers expected to feel fabric, they simply went through. “Please, Lucifer, just try—try to be here. Try to let me touch. You’re right, you just need to _want_ it. Please!”

“If it were that easy … I would have done it long ago.” Lucifer’s breaths were shallow and frantic, his hands by now covered in red. His eyes were fixed on her. “Detective, I …”

“Lucifer?”

“I don’t feel cold.”

A smile tugged on the corner of his lips and Chloe saw the moment his eyes stopped seeing anything. “No.” She reached for his face, a sob escaping her as her fingers met no resistance. “Don’t do this to me. Come on, don’t do this to me.”

The house was eerily silent around her. All she could hear were her own shaky breaths.

“Lucifer?”

He didn’t respond.

Chloe’s vision blurred with tears. She wanted to hold him, wanted to cry into his chest, wanted to beg _somebody_ to bring him back to her. He was gone and she hadn’t been allowed to touch him even once. Not even as he lay dying. Not even after he’d taken a bullet for her. How could this be how it ended?

She desperately wiped at her eyes.

Lucifer’s body flickered. At first only once. Then again.

“No. No, please,” she breathed and reached out. To hold on. To do _something_.

It was in vain.

He flickered once more. Then he was gone.


	13. Empty House

The precinct was literal chaos. Chloe stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching everyone bustle about, and she seriously regretted coming in. On a Saturday morning to boot. But she had to be here. After all, she’d killed Malcolm Graham. And he had killed—

No, don’t think about it. She pressed the heels of her palms over her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.

She hadn’t told anyone about Lucifer. What would she even say? All that mattered to them was that a cop was dead. And IA especially was having a field trip with Malcolm trying to murder her.

“Chloe!”

She flinched and looked up.

Dan ran up to her and wrapped her up in a hug, his arms tighter than strictly comfortable. “You’re okay. You are, right?” He let go and held her at arm’s length to get a good look at her. “They only just called me to tell me what happened. I had to get a babysitter for Trixie first and—shit, Chloe, what happened?”

She could only silently shake her head. Brushing his hands away, she made for her desk. She was here for one reason only and that was to give her official statement. The unofficial one had already been taken last night when the cops had arrived at _Dire Oaks_. Forensics had confirmed her story of Malcolm breaking in. They’d found his fingerprints everywhere: the front door, the bent latch of the back door, her clip that had been tucked into Malcolm’s jacket pocket. So, although, she’d shot him, she wasn’t a suspect. It had been self-defence.

The only thing that didn’t add up was the gun residue on Malcolm’s fingers. He’d fired but forensics just couldn’t find the bullet.

Chloe knew exactly where it had ended up.

“Chloe, I—”

“Please, Dan, I can’t talk about this right now. It’s been a long night. The gist of it is that no one believed me when I told them that Malcolm was dangerous, and in the end, he decided to break in and kill me in my sleep. So, I get to tell everyone a big, fat ‘I told you so’. Happy?”

Dan’s visibly choked on his next breath. He looked incredibly guilty. He hadn’t believed her, either. Had told her she’d been seeing things at Palmetto. Maybe he hadn’t treated her quite as badly as the rest of the precinct, but he hadn’t tried to help her, either.

“I’m sorry, Chlo. I’m just—I’m glad you’re safe.”

Chloe let out a breath. “Yeah. What about Trixie? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. I didn’t tell her. Not, yet.”

“I’ll tell her. It’s better if it comes from me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dan looked down and Chloe followed his gaze. His hands were shaking. “Can you—can you pick up Trix from my place when you’re done here? I just—I’ve got to take care of something here.” His voice was strained, almost as if he was holding back tears.

Chloe nodded slowly. “I’ll go get her. Monroe told me to stay home next week anyways. Internal Affairs is all over this.”

“’Kay,” Dan said, still not looking at her. “I’ll, um, I’ll call the babysitter and let her know, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Cool. Okay,” he said, already turning away. “I’m … I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Chloe watched him walk away. Something wasn’t right. There was something he wasn’t telling her. What was it that he was going to do?

Before she could think about it any longer, Olivia Monroe, her lieutenant, called for her. She was led into an interrogation room, the door falling closed behind her with a heavy thud.

She told them everything. About Malcolm. About Jacob Normandy.

Only Lucifer she didn’t mention a single time. Even though it was him she desperately wanted to talk about.

* * *

Chloe spent Sunday with Trixie at the beach. It did wonders for her in trying to get her mind off things, though she suspected that Trixie knew something was off.

They didn’t return to _Dire Oaks_ , Chloe explained that it was currently a crime scene and when Trixie announced that at least that meant some excitement for Lucifer, Chloe didn’t correct her. It made Chloe’s heart feel even heavier. How was she going to tell her daughter that Lucifer was gone?

When they settled in their hotel room for the night, Chloe was feeling a miniscule bit better. But all of it was made null with a call that reached her Sunday evening.

Dan Espinoza had turned himself in for shooting Detective Malcolm Graham at Palmetto Street.

Once again, her world crumbled to pieces.

Chloe didn’t sleep that night. She heard Trixie cry herself to sleep.

* * *

On Monday, just as she’d dropped Trixie off with her mother for the next few days, Chloe got another call.

Dan’s testimony had led IA to several cops that were now under investigation for corruption. Two hours later Jacob Normandy resigned as captain at the behest of the commissioner.

Olivia Monroe called her personally to assure her she would be reinstated as Detective immediately. It was too little too late, Chloe thought, but she thanked Monroe and told her she’d still take the paid leave and stay home for the rest of the week. Monroe didn’t argue.

* * *

Penelope renewed her offer for Chloe to stay at the beach house with Trixie for as long as she wanted. Free of charge. Chloe wondered if her charitable mood had something to do with Chloe’s life falling apart piece by piece, but she didn’t voice her suspicions. Instead, she accepted the offer, relieved at the idea of Trixie having a stable home again. At least for a little while.

Who knew what would become of Dan? He was in custody awaiting some sort of trial, though as far as Chloe knew, they didn’t plan on convicting him. It was more for appearances. Still, she had a long and angry tirade waiting for Dan once she saw him again.

Trixie was looking forward to living at the beach house and Chloe couldn’t blame her. It was a nice place.

She would miss _Dire Oaks_ , though. It had grown on her.

Or maybe Lucifer had.

Trixie and Ella both asked about him and Chloe eventually told them the truth. Not about him being the Devil. No, that wasn’t the point. But he’d saved her life and had died a second death for his troubles. Trixie was devastated. She told Chloe she never wanted to see _Dire Oaks_ again and maybe that was for the best.

Instead, when it was no longer a crime scene, Chloe returned to _Dire Oaks_ alone. Trixie stayed with Penelope for the rest of the week. Chloe would pack up her stuff and organize the move to the beach house.

She was oddly glad to be alone for a while. The fact that Lucifer didn’t officially exist had made it hard to grieve properly. But now, looking up at the old Victorian house, it all came rushing back, a tidal wave dragging her under. She hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. Not really.

The house was silent when she pushed open the door. Avoiding looking directly at the rug in the archway to the living room, she quickly went upstairs. She hesitated on the landing, her gaze wandering towards the end of the hallway. Slowly, she approached Lucifer’s room and reached for the handle. It turned easily in her grip and the door swung open to reveal the piano. Some candles were strewn across the floor. Right. She hadn’t thought to ask whether his room needed tidying up after his little rampage.

Suddenly nauseous, she slammed the door shut. She hated that it opened in the first place.

* * *

On Saturday her packed bags were waiting in the hallway, but Chloe was sitting on the couch, her eyes wandering from the fireplace to the spinning record player and back. She wasn’t leaving quite yet. She still had to unplug the TV and empty the fridge. She should probably also take the records. She’d put _Manfred Mann’s Earth Band_ back on. Lucifer would have hated it, but what did it matter now?

He hadn’t returned. Of course, he hadn’t. She knew it was in vain but everyday she hoped he would just appear again. She hadn’t gone into his room again, hadn’t even tried the handle. It was a bit like Schrödinger’s cat: As long as she didn’t look inside, she could pretend that he was in there.

At night, when sleep evaded her, she couldn’t help but search the house for any sign of him. She had even climbed up into the attic to see if there was any trace of him. Then she’d gone and checked the shed.

She’d lost hope that he’d return some time around Thursday night.

He was dead. As dead as he could be. She wasn’t very well versed when it came to religion, so she didn’t know whether the Devil could die. And if he could, did that mean he was in Hell? Surely, he couldn’t go to Heaven when he died. No, that didn’t fit. The Devil ruled Hell. He had told her as much himself. He wouldn’t be unhappy, would he?

Who was she kidding? Of course, he would be. He’d loved Earth, so much so that he’d fled Hell again and again just to get a taste of freedom, befriending people, making music.

But what if, when the Devil died, he just ceased to exist?

No. Chloe refused to think about it. She sipped on her glass of wine instead and eventually decided to light the fire one last time. Maybe this could be her farewell to him. Her last night at _Dire Oaks_. Perhaps she could say goodbye to him this way.

Picking up the cheesy novel that she’d never managed to finish, she settled on the couch again, the music and the crackling fire creating some much-needed background noise.

About two chapters later, she’d managed to escape reality. So much so that she didn’t notice that she wasn’t alone anymore.

“Hello, Detective.”

Chloe dropped the book, her hand reaching for the gun on the couch table before she even registered whose voice had spoken. When she did, she scrambled off the couch immediately.

And then, all Chloe could do was stand and stare.

He wore a suit, black like the one she was used to seeing on him, but—it wasn’t the same one. It was a three piece, the waistcoat underneath entirely unfamiliar on his person. He was standing in the archway, back-lit by the sunlight streaming through the windows next to the front door. His smile, when she looked at him, was one of relief and utter joy.

When Chloe didn’t say a word, however, his smile dimmed a little. “Pardon the sudden intrusion,” he said, “but I believe there is a piano upstairs that is missing me dearly.”

“Lucifer?” Chloe was half convinced she was hallucinating.

“The one and only.”

“You’re back,” she whispered.

He nodded slowly and took a slow step forward.

His dress shoes made a distinct thud on the wooden floorboards.

Chloe’s breath rushed out of her and her feet carried her over to him before she could even think about it. But she stopped, just about two feet between them, suddenly scared he would be a hallucination after all.

Lucifer opened his mouth and was about to speak when Chloe raised a shaking hand, reaching out. Her fingers came in contact with fabric. The body underneath warm. Chloe didn’t dare breathe. She pressed her palm against his chest.

Solid.

“You’re here,” she said, her voice almost forsaking her. “You’re—you’re truly here.”

“I am,” he said, inclining his head. His own hand covered Chloe’s on his chest where she could feel his beating heart. “Chloe,” he rumbled, “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, now could I?”

All rational thought went out the window and Chloe threw her arms around his neck, her face buried in his chest. He hated hugs with a passion, she knew, but she didn’t care. He was warm. He was _there_. He was solid.

She felt his arms come up around her and he held her just as tightly as she him, his chin resting on her head. Chloe realized she was crying when he started patting her back a little awkwardly, perhaps in an attempt to get her to let go. “It’s all right, Detective. I apologize, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, you idiot,” she cried, freeing herself from the embrace halfway. “Except for taking a bullet for me.”

“You’re welcome?”

She wouldn’t hit him. She wouldn’t. “I thought you were dead. What happened? Where did you go?”

“Well,” he said languidly. “I suppose I did die, yes. But dying here on Earth means I end up back in Hell. It’s rather unpleasant.”

“But you were—you were a ghost! How could you step between me and that bullet? How could it hit you?”

He shrugged and looked away. “I suppose you were right … I wanted it badly enough.”

“You … what?” She realized she was crying even harder now and Lucifer gently took her by her arm and led her back over to the couch to sit down. He kneeled before her, his hands on her knees, grounding her in the reality that this was _real_.

“What’s important right now, Detective, is that I’m not dead. And you’re not, either. And Malcolm got what he deserved.”

“Malcolm?”

“You can be certain that he will spend the rest of eternity paying for what he did. I made sure of it,” Lucifer said.

“He’s in Hell?”

“Yes, Detective.” He paused when she took a deep breath at his admission. “Apologies, I suppose that’s not something you want to hear about. At least not right now.”

“No, no, Lucifer, it’s fine. I just—I’m just glad you’re back.” She wiped at her eyes and looked up. Reaching out once more, she almost flinched when her fingers once again met solid flesh when she took his hand. It was more unreal at this point than the ghost thing had been.

“How—where did you come from? How did you get in?”

He frowned at the sudden change of subject. “I … the front door.”

“Which was locked. Can you still go through walls?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” he laughed. “But I have other talents.”

Chloe looked at him. Really looked at him. Before her kneeled the Devil in the flesh and she’d seen just what he could do if he dropped his human facade. But she wasn’t scared. This was Lucifer, her stupid ghost roommate who played piano at ungodly o’clock in the morning, who startled her more times than she could count, who had helped her with her case, and who’d saved her life. He was the Devil and her best friend. And wasn’t that a sentence she never thought she’d think.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you.”

“You did?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yes, I did. So has Trixie.”

“Where is the urchin?” He looked around as if he was expecting Trixie to suddenly come running.

“With my mother. I was busy with the—” _Moving_. She couldn’t say it, too scared of the look on his face. “Lucifer, I’m sorry, I—”

“What is it?”

She squeezed his hand, wanting to feel his warmth. He _was_ unusually warm, she thought. Maybe because he wasn’t quite human. “Lucifer, I … I’m moving out of here tomorrow.”

“Oh,” he said, then his smile grew, and he squeezed her hand. “So, you found a place. That’s brilliant.”

Chloe blinked. She hadn’t quite expected that reaction. “Um, yes, well—not exactly. My mom offered me her beach house and I had to accept. With Trixie’s school and work and everything, I couldn’t stay all the way out here.”

He nodded. “Of course. That’s one problem solved, then, isn’t it?”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you staying? Or are you … going back? To Hell?”

“Pfft,” he huffed. “I’m certainly not going back. I just made it back here after all. I’m telling you, getting ash out of feathers is a right pain in the arse. I don’t plan on getting them dirty again any time soon.”

Chloe’s brain had a moment of _oh shit, he actually has wings_ and she blinked at him owlishly before the rest of his answer clicked. “So, you’re staying here?”

“At _Dire Oaks_? No. I’ve had about enough of this place. No, Detective, I’ve got my eye on a certain piece of prime real estate.”

Chloe gaped at him for a second, then she realized what he meant. “Not the boxing club?”

“Yes, the boxing club.” His grin was as bright as a thousand watts. “I have a vision, Detective. And that vision is called _Lux_.”

She shook her head in fond exasperation and wiped away the last tears from her face. “You’re an idiot.”

“Ah, a lovable idiot, if I recall.”

“I told you, that’s debatable.”

“Good enough for me.”

* * *

He stayed with her that night, insisting that she’d tell him all about what had happened after he’d died. She let him, of course, not about to send him away again, but postponed their talk to the following day.

All she wanted that night was to hold him. It was all she could do to convince herself that he was truly back.

She fell asleep on the couch, right by his side, but woke up the next morning in her bed upstairs with him sitting against the headboard on the other side of the bed. He had her phone in hand, swiping at it expertly. When he noticed she’d woken, he smiled down at her.

“Good morning, Detective. Or rather, good afternoon. It seems to me you didn’t get a lot of sleep lately.” Before she could even say a word, he continued. “We should go out for lunch.”

Chloe blinked a couple of times. His tendency to jump from one subject to the next hadn’t abated. “What time is it?”

“About one in the afternoon. And look, I found a wonderful little restaurant on the internet. They do something called brunch and I’ve not eaten in, well, just about 32 years.”

“How did you figure out Google?” Chloe asked, still a bit drowsy.

“It’s not that hard once you get a hang of it.”

“Were you up all night?”

“You sure have a lot of questions early in the morning.” He swung his legs off the bed. “Chop, chop, time to get ready. I’ve already made reservations.”

She let him drive her to the restaurant in the city—in _his_ car, a Corvette that he’d gotten God knows where—and decidedly didn’t ask him where or when he’d learned how to drive.

As they waited for their food, Chloe finally asked what had been on her mind this entire time. “So, did you ever figure out why you were stuck at _Dire Oaks_ all this time?”

He studied the tablecloth intently as he answered. “It seems my sister was right after all. It must have been my own doing.”

“How can that be?”

“It all came down to what I felt I deserved. You see, Delilah died, and I thought I deserved to be punished for failing to save her. I deserved to be cut off from humanity. So, I became a ghost and only managed to become solid if I wanted it badly enough. I _wanted_ to play the piano. I _wanted_ to be able to leave the house with you. And then, in the end, all I wanted was … I just wanted to save you.”

“You did.” She reached for his hand across the table. “Lucifer, you did.”

“I suppose it only makes sense. I failed to save Delilah and got stuck, and only regained my freedom when I managed to save you,” he said, tightening his hold on her fingers. “Even if I don’t quite understand how one measly earthly bullet could have killed me. Tell me, did Malcolm use any special kind of bullet? Made from a very dense, black material, perhaps?”

Chloe shook her head. “Not that I know of, no. They were normal bullets. Are you saying they shouldn’t have killed you?”

“Of course, they shouldn’t have. I’m immortal, Detective. Bullets usually bounce right off.”

“Right.” She took a sip of her water with her free hand, refusing to let go of him. He was _so_ warm.

“No matter, I’ll figure it out. Or perhaps it was just a side effect of the ghost situation. You wouldn’t believe how glad I am that that’s over. We should toast to that.” He raised his glass.

Chloe clinked hers against his, a smile on her face. “Well, it could have ended a little less dramatically for my taste, but I’m glad, too.”

“Everything worked out perfectly, wouldn’t you say? You’re safe. And I … well, I am free. As free as I can be.”

“Another problem solved then,” Chloe agreed.

“What about your corrupt excuse for a captain?”

“He resigned. Internal Affairs started looking into him and although they couldn’t prove anything, too many others pointed their fingers at him.”

Lucifer visibly ground his teeth. “He deserves far worse for what he did. But at least he won’t bother you anymore. What about Palmetto? Did you look into whose key that was?”

Chloe tensed at the thought of Dan and Lucifer noticed right away.

“What happened?”

“It was Dan. Trixie’s dad,” she added for clarification. “He shot Malcolm at Palmetto to protect me. And then he lied about it. He turned himself in after Malcolm died and is still waiting on a verdict on what’s to be done with him, but it looks like they might let it slide.”

Lucifer regarded her intently. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s nothing, it’s okay,” she waved him off. “I just—I don’t know how to feel about it. He _lied_ to me. About everything. Not to mention that he shot Malcolm. I’m unbelievably angry with him but at the same time I don’t want him to be convicted. It would—Trixie would be devastated.”

“What do you want, then? What do you think he deserves?”

She looked up at him and supressed a shiver at the calculating stare he was fixing her with. Was the Devil asking her how to punish Dan? “I don’t know. I just don’t want to see him in jail.”

“A second chance, then?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “I know he’s not a bad guy. He just made a lot of wrong choices.”

“A second chance it is.”

Before Chloe could ask what exactly he meant, her phone rang, an unknown number on the display. Lucifer took one look at it and snatched it from her hand faster than she could react.

“That’s for me, sorry.” Swiftly, he accepted the call. “Henry, hello. How are things coming along?”

Chloe stared at him with her mouth hanging slightly open. What had he been up to? And who had he given her number to?

Lucifer hummed a few times as the man on the other end relayed his information. “Wonderful! Thank you, Henry. That’ll be all. Consider your debt payed. Pleasure doing business with you.” Then he hung up and handed the phone back to Chloe.

“Care to explain what that was about?”

“You’ll be glad to hear, Detective, that _Lux_ opens next week and you’re on the very exclusive guest list.”

“Excuse me, what?”

He leaned forward, his smile cheeky. “You’re invited to the currently most-talked-about party in the city. And I insist you come.”

For a moment, she hesitated, slightly baffled and not sure what to say. He wanted to keep hanging out with her, wanted to her to come see _Lux._ He was the actual Devil and he wanted to spend more time with her. She didn’t quite know how to describe the feeling that bubbled up inside her at the thought, but it was elating. She mirrored his grin. “As I recall, deals with you are very much _quid pro quo_ , am I right? So, how about I come to your party and you …” She paused and thought about it for a moment. “You help me move to the beach house in return?”

“I could hire someone to do that for you,” Lucifer replied immediately. “In fact, please let me hire someone to do that. You don’t have to run around carrying all those boxes.”

“But what else can you do for me in return?”

“Well, what is it that you desire?” he asked, his body automatically leaning forward, eyes fixed straight on hers.

She just squinted at him. “If this is that supposed trick of yours again, that didn’t work last time, either.”

He deflated a little. “How odd. Must be something to do with you, then, because it worked splendidly earlier. Say, were you dropped on the head when you were small?”

“Lucifer.”

“Yes, alright. But you do need to tell me what it is you want in return.”

“How about another game of Monopoly with Trixie? Once we’ve properly moved in.”

He shuddered exaggeratedly but nodded. “I suppose that can be arranged. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Chloe suspected he didn’t quite mind as much as he pretended to.

* * *

True to Lucifer’s word, _Lux_ opened not a week later. Chloe had no idea how Lucifer had accomplished that. Or any of it, really: buying the club, finding employees, turning the place into a nightclub, advertising it in the span of a single night—he’d done it all effortlessly.

When she stepped inside the club on opening night, she was overwhelmed seeing what Lucifer had done with the place. It was packed with people, the lights plunging everything into golds and blues. From the speakers sounded David Bowie. The centrepiece of lower floor was the baby grand from _Dire Oaks,_ and he had been right: the club really needed that piano.

She spotted him the exact moment he spotted her. He was at the bar, lazily draped across a stool. Next to him stood a black man, easily as tall as Lucifer himself. His expression was one of controlled fury as Lucifer smirked at him, making a shooing motion. The man turned away and left, walking past Chloe on his way out. Something about him made her shiver but she shook it off and approached Lucifer instead.

“Detective! My guest of honor!”

“I’m flattered. You really did a number on this place,” she smiled.

“Do you like it?” He leaned closer to her and with his arm encompassed the entirety of the club before them. “It’s a perfect den of iniquity.”

“Only you would call it that.”

“On the contrary, that’s what my brother called it.” Lucifer flashed a grin at her and emptied his drink, holding it up for the bartender to see. The woman behind the bar immediately placed two new drinks before him. He slid one over to Chloe. “You just missed him, by the way.”

Chloe almost choked on her first sip. “That was your brother? Tall, black guy?”

“Oh, yes, Amenadiel, God’s first warrior. Here to tell me off for opening a club,” he laughed and clinked his glass against hers. “I’m sure it’s not the last we’ve seen of him.”

“What is he going to do? Will he force you back to … you know?”

“To Hell? I’d like to see him try,” he snorted. “He’d have to get past Maze here first.” He jerked his head towards the bartender again and Chloe realized the woman was still leaning on the bar right behind them, watching her quite intently.

“Hi?” Chloe offered.

“Detective, meet my right hand demon Mazikeen. She’s the best of the best. And my bodyguard, of sorts.”

“A demon?” Chloe gasped, silently wondering how many other supernatural beings were currently in this club. “Oh, um, hi. I’m Chloe Decker.” She held out her hand across the bar. Mazikeen gave her a slow once-over but didn’t shake the offered hand. Chloe pulled it back, wondering if handshakes were even a thing in Hell.

When Chloe already thought Mazikeen wouldn’t say anything at all, the demon plonked a bottle of whiskey in front of Lucifer and said, “I see why you like her. She hasn’t run screaming, yet.” Then, without another word, she continued tending the bar.

Lucifer just grinned. “That’s Maze for you.”

“Are there more demons here?”

“No, no. I don’t allow them to come to Earth. Maze was an exception. I realized I’d started to miss her these few past years. So, I decided to bring her. That’s another thing Amenadiel isn’t too happy about.” He downed his drink. “But enough of them. That’s not why you’re here.”

“Oh, and why am I here?”

“You are here because you owe me a dance.” A smirk stole its way onto his lips.

Chloe immediately took a step back. “No. No way. Lucifer, I told you, I don’t dance in public.”

“Too bad. Because as host I insist.”

Before she could argue he’d already snatched her glass away from her and dragged her onto the dance floor. And they danced. For once Chloe didn’t mind the audience. Looking at him, his smile, it made the world around her disappear.

So, yeah. Maybe she’d fallen for the Devil.

When he leaned in to kiss her, she only hesitated for the smallest of moments before crossing her arms behind his neck, pulling him in closer. She could feel him smile against her lips and when she had to pull back for air, Chloe leaned her forehead against his as they continued swaying to the music.

“This is real, isn’t it?” he asked, wonder in his voice.

Chloe kissed him again instead of an answer. After all, being able to touch him was the best proof of it being real there was.

He was right here with her and she wouldn’t let him go again any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cut!  
> We’ve reached the end! Thank you all so, so much for following this story, for your support and all your amazing comments! Sharing this story with you these past few weeks made me really happy. ♥  
> As per popular demand it is now confirmed that Lucifer later finds the movie _Ghost_ and randomly starts making pottery for Chloe because “it’s a thing, Detective!”


End file.
